Danger

Dan, Brenna, Shawna, Eric and Marian, March 1999 at Lake Fletcher


Tomorrow afternoon I'll meet my ex for coffee. Not my ex-wife. The Ex. All exes since were attempts to exorcise my longing.

I first saw Dan one evening in November 1996. Approaching a meeting room, I glimpsed him passing the doorway. My jaw dropped. I don't know what it was, but I got stung, and the pang has never left. He was an ex-preacher. Maybe he needed my adoration and I needed his charisma. He moved in with me that New Year's Eve.

I was not responsible enough for him. Ironically, his hero was Patsy Stone. He was only cruel when he left, but we broke up three times. Maybe he thought I would shape up. Maybe he couldn't stay away. Finally I decided it was over.

Since April 1999 we have exchanged email occasionally. He dropped by once, four years ago in June.

Why am I putting myself through this?

Because I want to. Like an ex-smoker who still craves a puff 20 years later. My mind can't let go of the memory of being penetrated that way and utterly absorbed. If he took the lid off the well, I might fall in. Believing he will not, I go.

new bathroom

At last the bathroom renovation is practically finished. Today the workmen looked after a couple plumbing problems, trimmed the door to fit the frame, laid flooring, finished painting and accomplished a few further touch-ups. They have to come back tomorrow, but only to finish caulking and install a toilet paper roll. The only things unchanged are the toilet and sink. They're showing their age, but still functional. For some weird, inscrutable reason, the toilet is now raised above floor level on a small square of plywood. I want to install a cupboard above the toilet for towels and supplies, but that idea will have to wait at least until the fall.