The Icy Walk

My grandparents live in icy Ohio.  The walk in front of their house was almost unwalkable a few weeks ago, covered in a slick icy sheet I could barely traverse.  For them, with their canes and terrible knees, it is an impenetrable barrier. Yet they do not even own salt for the walk. When we suggested it they said it destroys the concrete. So they risk life-threatening injury when they leave the house in order to save the concrete. They have become trapped in their own home as a result. The habits of old people turn inward on their own logic, rendering situations impossible through sheer stubbornness. To this I can relate.

I know that I told you that FC and I didn't really have anything left to say to each other.  Well that was a big fat lie.  What really happened was we were just afraid to take the jump.  He pulled back, and I acceded, saying we just had to take some time apart.  We had to try being not in love, or in love with other people, in our far away separate cities.  Besides, do you know how much a flight to Los Angeles is?  The logic was inviolable, and my insert money calculation pie chart wrapped the whole thing up. The amount total was very clear: the relationship wasn't working out.

Lie.

But it was a particular kind of lie.  Lie to myself.  Lie disguised as a choice.  Lie that hopes to fix the feeling part, to alter it.  We both did it, and that was all of 2008 for us.  It failed so miserably that the first few days of 2009 have been spent reconnecting.  Exploring how we've grown since we met two years ago.  And proposing some steps that may (or may not, we could live with that) lead to big, scary, measurable results.  Like a visit to NYC.  But at least we are taking action again, no longer trapped in the house.

Comments

[ricardo]

hilarious to varying degrees....the icy assembly representing an igloo that contains the limitations presented in some deliveries toward a diet of chill yet not relaxed -- perhaps, how even new york was limited by pork belly orchestration. salt helpful with ice yet not in the blood stream with fat. as such in weirdness as some could say unlike Seriously/Adolescent/Morons and architecture still being stifled albeit the darling of madison avenue buzzwords although lagging, lagging, lagging. what would an igloo resemble if one used blocks of frozen waste water/cess pools or leech field residue?? guess, you'd have to ask the mosquitoes if they survived the plunging temperatures.

cheers. happy new year in the weirdness removed from trite representation.