The phone rings. I lift it to my ear.

 "hello." it was Marcus. his baritone voice falters in the phone. drunk. again, "hello?"

"hey."

a pause. long. I begin to speak, he cuts me off. "hey, sorry, am i bothering you?" I reply no. across the couch my cat, Mugen, stretches and turns on his belly. I reach a palm out to pet him. "Can i ask you something?" Marcus asks. Unusual, as he almost always inquires about me whenever he calls. Mugen trots over my lap. he pushes against my phone before jumping down. He did always like Marcus. I reply yeah.

"I wanted to know," he begins. "...i was wondering..." I can hear the ice rattle in the glass in his hand. "I get that we're no longer romantically involved. I understand that it never worked out. But that night... Valentines day. when i came over and we watched movies all night long." his voice cracks "I guess - I mean... don't you ever think about us? Like, when we were intimate? I mean, it was valentines' day. I was alone, you were alone, i just thought it would be natural." a pause. then more confidently, "I just need some closure. I like you, and you like me" it was true "we're not in love - least no more." also true. "wasn't i fun?  Am I not attractive? did we not enjoy each other once? I don't want to sound like a desperate x lover. And I tell myself over and over that we're done. that I don't want to be close to you. no offence. but, like, we're s'posed to be friends, right? just tell me that you don't lay awake at night on occasion and think of me carnally. that you don't even like me that i'm weird and awkward and a silly boy with too little pride and not enough ..." the flick of a light and a hiss of a cigarette. I can almost taste the buttery ash on his breath. "or tell me that you do still feel for me. in some small way. That your heart was torn. That we were too different. two different people. tell me something!"

I don't know what to say. I can't even think. "I..."

"Nevermind. I don't want to know." he exhales, "I think... I think if i didn't know then, I don't want to know now. it... perhaps its better this way. sorry to bother you." then "I hope you are well."

I wish I could say something. I wish I would. perhaps it's better this way. perhaps it's better this way.

Adventures in a time of Marc

Aloha, faithful readers. Sorry about the infrequence of posts these days; (as with all days) My life has been interesting the last couple, so i hope the populus will forgive me.

-the following post has been posted on the fly; as such it is incomplete. stay tuned-

I wasn't going to post the life and time of my world here upon this page, rather i'd plan to post some more scribblings. However this correspondence will, assuredly, be fantastic reading (with the bombastic entrance concluded).

Wednesday was fun. I started that day by opening my first shift at a local, delicious bakery. All well and good. regular, early, if few, hours compared to my older job as a cook at the bistro, Monica's. the contrast of the two eatries are as different as the hours. From long and irregular night and weekend shifts (monica's) to early and ridged shifts (bagels). the later lacked regulation, perfering the empolyed to mange the bistro as it pleased. lose codes of conduct and an air of recreation unique to private establishments. The bakery, like a dove to a magpie, is rigulously formulatic. exactly eight hour shifts with a clear distinction between 'freetime' and work time. Yet, greater organization means more effectency, more opprotunities for an apt worker to be compencated.

What waits in store for our hero? next time on Ninja Chef Marcus: A Tale of Two Roles or Watch Out, Papika!

So that brings us to thursday which was spent stressed and agiated about the choices that brought our fair traveller to the rocky crests of Michigan. (which is a boring story)

moving on,

the weekend brought, for me, fun and friends as i watched two dear one enter the legal tradition of matrimony. 

time to think

A lingering notion

Time has come for me to admit trepidation. this is the first time is a while I've used my outlets for expression - public expression.I will use this moment to shout cares ,concerns, feelings and what not without a Dam.
I feel lost - alone. I am tried all the time. My mind wonders not freely but in initially distracting ways
Today i drove to Des Monies to deliver my dear companion, Ruby, for her family needs her. Almost as much as she needs distance from them. she is so stabilizing - cooling. But her lack of ambition saps my respect. I often dream; of her. Her a lowly barmaid of sold daughter who is apt yet only desires a good husband and easy life. Courtier fodder or material of the "perfect (17th century) woman." In these haunting i see her desire only what she can grasp. I've seen this woman of prowess working geisha style singing melodiously on-high for the pleasure of brothel patrons when she could move the stars as an earthly siren. I feel worse to see that it is not ignorance (not impotence) of skill but a willful resignation that her sullied performances are the 'best' she can mange.


Enigma

I awake and realize my dreams are not wholly of ruby. I see reflection in each nightmare. Myself.
Wonder if not we are alike - two sinking stones strung together willingly in hopes of buoyancy are we to find only deeper waters? Can I bring myself to bear question? Is it i who built this gilded cage? perhaps if i did not she might fly in my absence. or that i might be cut from my own compliance, as well? I cannot. I cannot. Lest she sink deeper. It is my love; It is my concern for her that is my rock. And i am hers.

Query

Why not can i cut this chain? may hap it is the sheer devotion her for me that moves me day to day? or the light of inspiration that flares when she watches me? or the dampening feelings of insecurity she moves in me? perhaps it's enough to have written this.
someone close will read this and think.



-sorrowfully yours, Marcus