Andy spends much of his time in the car unhappy with the radio, cursing the other drivers, and changing the stations. Last night he heard the theme from Taxi Driver on a jazz station and it settled him a little. Then came the theme from Midnight Cowboy, "everybody's talking at me, I can't hear a word they're saying, only the echoes of my mind..."
He hasn't seen Sunny in over a week. She's on hiatus again, said she had things to handle. This time she told him not to wait. She texted a cryptic happy new year last week, but other than that, silence. He's an interpreter of silences. He has so far filled the void with several story lines which he edits and reworks a little every day.
He's immersed himself these past few weeks in work, self-help reading, and exercise. Resilience is living in - and dealing squarely with - the new normal, minute by minute. The new normal is one in which she, unambiguously, no longer wants to be with him. Winners look forward. Losers dwell in the past. He's resolved this year to be ok no matter what she does.
Bob Dylan comes on next telling about a star-crossed encounter, and Andy can see himself in every scene along with traces of Sunny. He's remembering and softening now. His resololution suddenly seems like a betrayal, or at least premature, and he's in doubt again.
People tell me it's a sin
To know and feel too much within
I still believe she was my twin...
Andy sings along with Bob the last line- blame it on a simple twist of fate. As it fades, his phone dings with her tone. The message is a short sentence regarding the rebounding health of her dog. Athough absolutely nothing has changed in their relationship, for a moment, everything is exactly right.
He hasn't seen Sunny in over a week. She's on hiatus again, said she had things to handle. This time she told him not to wait. She texted a cryptic happy new year last week, but other than that, silence. He's an interpreter of silences. He has so far filled the void with several story lines which he edits and reworks a little every day.
He's immersed himself these past few weeks in work, self-help reading, and exercise. Resilience is living in - and dealing squarely with - the new normal, minute by minute. The new normal is one in which she, unambiguously, no longer wants to be with him. Winners look forward. Losers dwell in the past. He's resolved this year to be ok no matter what she does.
Bob Dylan comes on next telling about a star-crossed encounter, and Andy can see himself in every scene along with traces of Sunny. He's remembering and softening now. His resololution suddenly seems like a betrayal, or at least premature, and he's in doubt again.
People tell me it's a sin
To know and feel too much within
I still believe she was my twin...
Andy sings along with Bob the last line- blame it on a simple twist of fate. As it fades, his phone dings with her tone. The message is a short sentence regarding the rebounding health of her dog. Athough absolutely nothing has changed in their relationship, for a moment, everything is exactly right.
No comments:
Post a Comment