"You've wasted your summer," she said, not for the first time, as if summer marked some invisible boundary of importance greater then the other seasons.
Sam drew out another cigarette and lit it. She was not ready to leave. The shadows were deepening around us. It was a bright early evening when we entered the restaurant now no light showed through between the window blinds. Another sign that summer was coming to an end.
I tried to form a reply. I sputtered partial phrases none of which made much sense. "Don't get defensive, " she continued. "You need to find someone more mature. Someone that can offer you something mentally."
It sounded horribly boring to me. Like watching paint dry-- acrylic paint, not oil based no fumes to enjoy. I don't really want someone to challenge me intellectually. I don't really put much thought into things, except people maybe and you really don't need a PhD to observe people.
* * *
Last weekend:
#1 sits at the table in front of my computer, feeding her addiction to mySpace. I am sitting on the counter in the kitchen facing her. "See he is avoiding the issue and so are you," I say.
"How can he and you not fight, you are the most annoying person I know! He avoids fighting because he is afraid of loosing you. Which means he is probably suppressing issues; eventually that will make him unhappy."
"How can he and you not fight, you are the most annoying person I know! He avoids fighting because he is afraid of loosing you. Which means he is probably suppressing issues; eventually that will make him unhappy."
She listens and we talk more. The conversation is mentally stimulating. It is a side no one else sees.
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