Good Morning, I'm Up

We fell asleep around midnight.  It is early for Firefly. The bedroom is dark. The door wall is open a crack. Cool fall air and the smell of rain fills the room.  I am lying on my back.  Firefly is lying half on me and my hand strokes the soft skin of her belly and arms.  I reach out to my left and grab my phone from the nightstand.  The screen lights up and tells me it is time to get moving. I slide myself slowly from beneath Firefly trying not to disturb her sleep. 

"Where are you going?" She coos. 

"I have to get ready for work," I tell her, a bit surprised she is awake so early.  "Why? Do you want me to come back to bed?"

"Just for five minutes and I will fall asleep again,"  she assures me.

I slip back under the covers and hold her close.  My hand strokes her soft skin.  I become semi-aroused and pull myself out of bed before frustration sets in.  I tuck the covers and pillows around her sleeping form and head for the bathroom.

After my shower, I open the bathroom door and gaze at her in bed.  She kicked off all the covers and is facing the opposite direction curled into a fetal position.  She is naked except for a nude-colored thong and is murmuring in her sleep. I resist the urge to grab her little butt and get back into bed.  Instead I put my clothes on give her a kiss and head downstairs to make a cup of coffee before leaving for work.

A few minutes later the Keurig is making coffee and I am sitting on the stairs putting on my shoes aided by the dim lighting from the kitchen.  I hear the familiar electronic notes telling me I have a text message from Firefly.  "Are you making eggs?"

I go back upstairs.  Firefly is still curled on the bed with her eyes closed.  Her iPhone is by her hands and it is hard to believe she just texted me.  "No honey, " I whisper,  "I am about to head out the door.  Why do want eggs?"

"Thought I heard you making eggs.  Never mind, I will make them later," she says.  She is as much asleep as awake, and I wonder if she is just dreaming of food.

The urge to get back into bed is strong. I give her a few more kisses and exit the bedroom before I can no longer resist getting back into bed.

She sends me a text later in the day, "Good morning,  I'm up!" 

"You were so cute this morning asking for eggs at  7:00 a.m.,"  I reply.

"I don't even remember that, omg!  I could not sleep for the life of me." 

"Yes, I know. You didn't even complain the third time we had sex.  Just kidding.....or am I?"

I tell her it is because of her sleep apnea.  She takes shallow breaths, because of the drugs, then a loud healthy gasp about every seven to ten seconds.

*     *     *

I think some of you are right.  Firefly doesn't want to leave.  She is comfortable.  I have not given her any false illusions though, she needs to make a plan.  

"I don't want to go to California anymore," she told me last night.  "The whole state is on fire."  

"Well you need to go somewhere,"  I reply.  Florida is her second choice.  Going to a rehab in Michigan is not an option to for her.  I am not going to force her to go to a rehab.  It won't stick if she doesn't want to go but I am going to sell the Silver Jeep.  She will not have a car to use.  I will consider buying a cheap car for her to use upon her return. She could get a regular job and buy it from me, but she needs to be clean first.

Fall

 I feel like writing off the rest of September.  I am ready for October.  Firefly has till the end of the month to come up with a plan for reentering rehab. I will be instituting my own plan.  I want to sell my old Jeep by mid October.  She will be without a car unless she buys her own and her money saving has been on a sharp decline the last two weeks.  I actually want her gone.  Not because I don't like having her around, but this time is not doing her any good.  She is stuck in a holding pattern.

I am looking forward to having the condo to myself again. The cat, on the other hand, has finally started to take a liking to Firefly.  If she wants to return, once she has completed 30 to 90 days of rehab, we will need to have some discussions.  I am getting too old to be parenting another twenty year old girl through her daddy issues.  I am going to have to visit that Physic again while Firefly is away to gain some perspective.

Saturday I purchased a kayak from my friend Alexis.  It was only $175.  It is a good kayak for the price.  I am not sure if it is a good investment though.  I don't go kayaking enough.  Perhaps this will make me more inclined. I have it strapped to the ceiling of the garage.  I will probably move it to the wall above my ladder once I sell the silver Jeep.  

Due to lack of good content I have decided to include images of my Silver Jeep that will be going up for sale soon.

Nights

 I have a standing rule, if Firefly uses my old Jeep it needs to be home by midnight.  She can do what she wants after midnight, but the vehicle remains home.  She thinks it is safer to be driving around at night.  I disagree knowing the neighborhoods she visits.

She tends to get home at midnight and often does not fall asleep until 2:00 or 3:00.  I reeks havoc on my sleep schedule because I will often find myself up also.  

"I'm going to get me a full length mirror and put it in my bathroom,"  she tells me. "So I can evaluate my outfits."

"Your bathroom? What?"  Since when did this arrangement become permanent? I think to myself, but do not say out loud.

"They are only like $5 are Walmart."  She continues strolling back into the spare room.

She has commandeered the bathroom in the spare bedroom as her own.  I don't mind, she has a slew of products I wouldn't want to fight my way around every morning.  She keeps her clothes, and sleeps with me, in the smaller master bedroom.  

Last night at 2:00 am, after a late night session of sex, I follow her down to the kitchen for a snack.  She is dressed in black panties and a black bralette.  "I have been told it is not normal to have nude girls roaming through the house," I say, as a lightly grab her butt in passing.  

"Well it must suck for others."  

I agree.

There Is No Reply

 Now where's your picket fence love
And where's that shiny car
And did it ever get you far
You never seemed so tense love
I've never seen you fall so hard
Do you know where you are

And truth be told I miss you
And truth be told I'm lying... Gives You Hell, All American Rejects

Yesterday I got a third email from Billie.  It is the fourth time she has reached out in the last two weeks.  I have obviously been on her mind.

Billie: (no subject)  Hey... haven't heard from you last few times I have reached out.. not sure if its intentional or not but I'm worried that something has happened to you. If you respond to me with a blank message I will stop reaching out. I hope you are okay.....

I haven't replied.  I have nothing to say to say to her.  I asked three of my female friends and they all said I didn't owe her a reply.  One male friend felt I should say something.  This leads me to believe the women are correct in this instance.

I don't need to brag and tell her about my new truck, my vacation at Silver Lake or the fact a twenty-year old girl is sharing my bed.  I don't really care if she is happy or not, she made her choice.  I will always love her.  I will always feel like ours was the best relationship I ever had but there is no going back.

There is no reply.

“I'm not upset that you lied to me, I'm upset that from now on I can't believe you.”

― Friedrich Nietzsche

Dinner

 Friday I still had those six words stuck in my head, "hope you have a great year".  I worked the day on my computer at home.  Firefly woke late and continued to be late the rest of the day.  She left to score drugs in the afternoon and got caught in rush hour traffic on the ride home.

Firefly:  I wanted to get you a cake on the way home but I guess that's not happening.

Bathwater: Just get home and we will figure it all out.

We ended up leaving for the restaurant at 7:00 pm.  Firefly was dressed in a little black dress and sheer jacket.  She looked cute but the weather was a bit cool for the outfit.  She did not care she had been determined to wear the dress since our trip to Ludington.

We had to wait 45 minutes for a table which gave us enough time to run across the street and buy a cake.  Firefly had them write, "Happy 21st Birthday" on it.  

While we waited in the car for our table she said to me,  "You still haven't told me how old you really are."

"Yes I have, I'm twenty-five,"  I assure her but she is not buying my claim.  "Was born the year after JFK was shot, look it up."

Firefly bounced around across from me during the meal.  She was happy, in a way I don't see very often. Like most of her generation she was as interested in taking pictures of the evening as enjoying it.  We ate the cake at home in bed while watching a few episodes of the series, Justified.  Once our stomachs settled, we had sex in several positions.

Those are the good days. The days I don't mind having her around.  The rest of the weekend she spent with her old boyfriend (not the violent one), he is an addict like her.  A functioning addict one step away from crashing.  He is very much like Billie.  Firefly thinks he is her forever.  I keep reminding her that the chances of them both getting clean is not good.  

I tell her she needs a plan by the end of the month.  I don't have much faith in her recovery.  Everyone she knows and everything she does revolves around drugs.  She will need to give that up if she wants to change.

She says she wants to move back here after rehab.  "I'm not your parent," I tell her.  "I don't want to deal with you."  Right now I just want to get her to rehab.  Coming back will be under a strict set of conditions.  Things her family should have instituted when she was fifteen, not twenty.

Another Year

Am I alive or thoughts that drift away?
Does summer come for everyone?
Can humans do as prophets say?
And if I die before I learn to speak
Can money pay for all the days I lived awake
But half asleep?

I've been downhearted baby
I've been down-
I've been downhearted baby
Ever since the day we met
Ever since the day we met...

Firefly is still living with me but she is back together with a different boyfriend.  She spends most nights out with him.  This is just what girls do.  One in the hand and one in the pocket.  At first, it was easy pretend everything was normal when she first moved in but now it is like reliving the past.  A past that has been drifting to close to my consciousness these past few days.

We are suppose to be go out to dinner tonight.  Firefly has a little black dress she has been dying to wear out.  I don't feel much like doing it.  The virus makes going out a hassle.  

Billie sent me an email at 6:00 am this morning, "Happy birthday, hope you have a great year."  I am not sure what to make of it.  One in the hand, one in the pocket. It is the third time in ten days she has reached out to me.  I did not acknowledge her birthday two days ago or reply to  her previous email concerning the cable guy.  

So many things I would ask, "Why are you having a great year?"  "Why do you care still feeling guilty or how you ended things and trying to ease your conscience?"  "Are you having second thoughts?"  "Fuck you."  Something kind is not amongst them.  Indifference is the best I can muster.

I don't believe we are meant to go through life alone, but most of us do.  It is just another part of the struggle to live.

I've been downhearted baby
I've been down-
I've been downhearted baby
Ever since the day we met
Ever since the day we met...Standing Outside a Broken Phone Booth With Money in My Hand, Primitive Radio Gods

Miss You

Where are you?

And I'm so sorry.

I cannot sleep. I cannot dream tonight.

I need somebody and always

This sick strange darkness

Comes creeping on so haunting every time.

And as I stared, I counted

The webs from all the spiders

Catching things and eating their insides.

Like indecision to call you

And hear your voice of treason.

Will you come home and stop this pain tonight?

Stop this pain tonight.

Don't waste your time on me.

You're already the voice inside my head. I Miss You, Blink 182

This is the index card taped to my bathroom mirror.  It has been there for about a year now.  It says, "Just because I miss someone doesn't mean I need them back in my life.  Missing is just a part of moving on."

Missing someone is not enough to fix the past.  Missing someone is a waste of energy.

Today is Billie's birthday.  She turns twenty-eight years old.   I will not be contacting her.  Phoenix said he was a hopeless romantic in the comments a few posts back.  I was once too.  Not anymore.  If I focused on Billie, she would come back into my life in some dramatic love triangle.  I don't need that.  I don't deserve it.  I hope your life is everything you wanted it to be.  But then again, it was everything you could possibly hope to have, and it wasn't enough.