Wednesday, May 8, 2013

Two Years. Two Days.

"Forgive me Father for I have Sinned.  It has been two years and two days since my last confession."

Oh mah hunny bunny.  My spaceship bride.  How could I have done this to you?  Once my most beloved plaything, my pixellated-pixie of an English Channel that I swam every day- why?  Because you were there.  Of course you were, we carved you out of the interspace and filled you with fun foolishness and spirited nonsense.  I let you languish.  I left you in New York, along with sweaty trainrides.  But I don't need to go back there to get one of those two things into my life again.  We left you in a Cleveland basement.  We abandoned you, ripe words rotting on the virtual vine.

The Calvalry is coming, baby.  Even if it's just me carrying a sack of potatoes and screaming in my underwear. Two Years, Two Days, Too Long.

I needed you more than you needed me.

1 comment:

  1. the absent father returns.
    watch how we all ignore the abandonment and abuse, hanging on your legs and laughing and begging you to take us out for pizza.

    "sure thing, kids!" you holler,
    "i just need to stop by the liquor store first and pick up a few things..."