Bitter pain of wrenching loss

7:08am, my apartment in Chandler, Arizona, Saturday morning, December 18, 2021. The road curved and flattened before undulating down. Was this the right path? Had I missed a turn? It seemed familiar, yet so much time had passed I couldn’t be sure. Then instantly, as if right on cue, the meadow opened before me. Sunlight washed over tall yellow flowers, the jagged mountains rose to meet the clouds and there, off in the distance, was the tiny house we called home. Bitter pain of wrenching loss, ridiculous hope for an impossible reunion and the always tortuous memories surrounded me. And in that moment I could not help but ask the question I knew would never be answered, “How did something so beautiful ever end?”

Friday night

7:33pm Friday night sept 17, 21. Immediately the events transpired. I finished a phone call then left for a meeting across town. When I arrived no one seemed particularly concerned with the growing mob outside. To them the novel display was intriguing, not annoying. But I was sick with worry. What if my wife found out, what then? A million scenarios raced through my mind. None of them involved a simple resolution.

Friday night

8:26am Friday night. (Notes for book I am writing)Did I Achieve something because I was willing to go to the utmost extreme? Was my “success” really a failure? I solved one problem but did not achieve my original goal. I also did not solve the original problem. Were they related? Did I have an obligation to pete to solve his problem? That was my intent. In a way I caused the problem. In another I didn’t. But he also created the situation by giving me the job.

Thursday night

8:02pm Thursday night. I had trouble concentrating this morning. A meeting with my boss did not go well. I started to feel annoyed because she said I lacked urgency. I tried to explain to her it wasn’t my fault but I don’t think she understood. I didn’t want to upset her but what could I say?

Sunday afternoon

5:05pm Sunday afternoon. Dana Point. After going to the movie we headed across town and grabbed dinner. It was unseasonably warm outside for the time of year. When we arrived the cool breeze in the restaurant relaxed us. We ordered drinks and continued talking. She told me about her experience growing up nearby. I nodded dutifully with a look of sincere interest.

Friday night

8:10pm Friday night. After dinner I went down stairs and walked over to the common room. Some people I knew were there, playing pool. Someone had brought a deck of cards and was teaching some others a new game. I tried to listen in but couldn’t follow the rules so I sat down in a chair by the fan and opened my book to read.

Monday night

7:40pm Monday night. There was a knock on my door. I opened it to find my neighbor across the landing. He was a young Indian guy with thick glasses. He lived with his wife. The few times I ran into them we just exchanged quick hellos. “Excuse me, did you see someone deliver a package?” I told him I hadn’t. He looked vexed then asked if I would let him know if I did. I said, “Of course.” He turned and walked down the stairs to the parking area and disappeared from view.

Friday morning

5:39am Friday morning. I woke up early and decided to go for a run. I turned East then crossed the main road to the south. The unfamiliarity of the new route occupied my thoughts and kept me focused. When I tired I fell into a brisk walk then stretched for a half hour. I returned home but I wasn’t hungry so I just had coffee.

Wednesday night

8:18pm Wednesday. At that point I wasn’t thinking straight. I grabbed the nearest thing I could write with, a broken pencil, and scribbled down her phone number. Or as much as I could remember. I was pretty sure I transposed a couple digits but that was alright. I would dial combinations until I got a hold of her to ask her out.

Sunday night

7:47pm Sunday night. The heat emanating from the sidewalk drifted up my legs and sapped my energy. Insects buzzed as the sun relentlessly beat down. Up ahead I noticed a thin, dark strip of shade cast by the southeast corner of a tall building. I changed my course as two neighbors approached me. They were talking excitedly about what I gathered to be events from a previous get together. It must have been sordid. The woman was waving her arms as she spoke. At one point she proclaimed, “No one should put up with that shit.” The man had his head down and mumbled a response I did not hear. Their dog pulled at the lead, greedily sniffing bushes until the woman tugged it back to the path. They nodded hello as they passed. I absently asked, “How are you doing?” But got no reply.