My wife and I are getting a divorce. We laid it all out last night, and really talked about the meat at the end of the fork. She doesn’t want to be married to a woman. I can’t go on living as a man. My life will probably get better after our divorce. Hers will probably get worse.
I trudged into work this afternoon and held it together until an Adele song came on. Fucking Adele. She’s a demon sent to Earth to make bitches depressed. I had no choice but to creep off to my car and ugly sob.
While I was hiding from Adele, I remembered a coffee shop I visited in China. It was like so many Chinese coffee shops: sterile and well-lit, with like four tiny tables, one coffee blend, and a plethora of sweet and savory pastries. But what set it apart was the music. They played three songs on a loop. One of them was Carly Rae Jepson’s “Call Me Maybe”. No matter how bad my day was, how sick I felt, how much I missed home, when listening to that song blare over and over again as I drank coffee and nibbled pastries stuffed with sugar and ham, I felt alright. I could study Chinese, watch hundreds of people mill past on the sidewalk, or read 19th century Russian novels, and no one would ever bother me.
That Chinese coffee shop is my happy place. Right now, I would give anything just to sit there.
Thank you for all of your lovely, lovely birthday messages. Sorry I didn’t post them all, I don’t want to spam everyone and I have tried to reply to as many of you personally as possible. You are all so kind. 🕊
Do you still remember the troubles? The time when you said it was us against the world? We never cared, kept on running all through the day and night; chasing the distant horizon till everything felt right. Now that I’m lost in the skies, will you save me? You were my gravity.
You left me out there, in an open field, with no one but myself. I was the moon, you were the sun, and how can I hold from within now that you’re gone? I fall out of orbit, left without words. I know you are somewhere better now.