another bottle of wine please

She's following the sun spot across the kitchen floor... just like she did with the moon last night. My stomach is growling and I'm starting to feel a little woozy. just a little. Nothing I haven't dealt with before. The city food smells seem to travel better in the cooler air and fill my house with deliciousness. Am I really going to spend the few bucks I have on a bottle of wine? Probably yes. Something to occupy myself while I wait.

On Wednesday, at 11:09 pm apparently, autumn will officially begin. I'm excited for fall this year. Even though I'm already feeling the chill and sitting in my kitchen in long sleeves and a sweater. There's something about sitting at my table feeling the cool air pour through the window while I drink my coffee. the fresh ground beans smell cleaner and warmer than usual and my steaming mug of coffee tastes like everything is going to be ok.
　

I ran away to Florida 2 years ago, and you came for a long weekend. And no matter the stress of your quickly disintegrating marriage, you slept on the couch. You remembered out loud all those other times when I made you stay on the couch in years past and thanked me. I dragged you to the beach one night after dinner and we found a few chairs and sat and watched the sunset, talking a little at first, then silence for what seemed like an eternity. You never took your eyes from the setting sun. not once. "I have never before been in direct line of where the sun sinks into the ocean. Wow." and that was it for another eternity. That had been my same thought every night for the past 4 weeks.

I drove you to the airport on Sunday.... sent you back to Philly where you hopped a train and bee-lined for the Jersey Shore. You had a renewed sense of making it work and surprised her with a visit and "the best time we've had in a really long time." and we smiled through the phone as you rehashed the day with your wife and daughter.

A month and a half later, you moved out.... on your anniversary.

After 10 years, we'd been through it all. We buried our fathers, lost friends, moved, changed jobs, got and gave broken hearts, abusive relationships, marriage, children, and now divorce. There we were, sitting on the couch you "won" in the divorce in front of your giant tv which we rarely turned on, listening to music and drinking vodka cranberries and talking. movies, music, poetry, art, dance, politics, becoming the people we were always meant to be, doing the things we love with the people who matter. You brought out the pictures one night and looked through trying so hard to figure how you got where you were. I reminded you of the time 9 years before as I dropped you off at your Robbins St apartment when you told me, "Sometimes you just have to settle for good enough." You looked at me quizzically for a second then turned back to the box of pictures and said, "It's a good thing you didn't listen to me, I shouldn't have listened to myself. That's a bunch of bullshit."

Monday night dinners, Wednesday night drinks, and Fridays and/or Saturdays any combination of movies and events around the city. I don't remember when the friendship turned again... when sleeping together became a normal thing that friends do. There was no more "in love" for us for each other. Just love and understanding and respect and comfort and safety. We knew each other inside out. Its no small joke that the ex-wife used to call me the female version of her husband. It was common knowledge that we think the same.

We spent Thanksgiving together, neither of us willing to deal with our family but more than happy to watch someone else's dysfunction for the day. Good memories, good new friends, good times and a whole lotta good food :) I felt just fine to be where I was. We were on a roll, on fire even. Happy with where our lives were and where things were headed and constantly in awe of having, truly having, a best friend which "nothing could ever change."

In late winter and early spring things got better for both of us. Our conversations had the added element of having new people in our lives. Over white pizza with bacon and a bottle of wine, you told me stories of her and asked me all sorts of things about him. We talked about all the things that we weren't ready to talk about with anyone else. I didn't have to tell you my best secret, you saw it in my eyes and said it first. I still refuse to acknowledge that one... and I know its safe with you. We worked things through together and made sure both of us were staying in that good place.
　

I was in a bar in Dover when I got the first text,

"im actually having a good time at this bbq. her friends are pretty cool. hope youre too busy having great sex to read this ;)"

"haha at a gig now chillin' and watching the drunk college girls..."

there were a few more back and forth texts of nothing in particular then,

"shit. don't respond back. she just asked about our history... i have to do some damage control. we'll talk soon."
　
　
　
A few days passed.

One email and one reply.

Then the voicemail, "Call me when you get a chance."

I suppose I should have found it odd to get the phone call in the middle of the work day but I didn't. I assumed he was trying to set up plans for the UFC fight the coming Saturday.

blah blah blah... he said words. the best I could get out of my mouth was, "ok. Bye." and I hung up.
　
　

The leaves are beginning to change and fall already... scattered across the Port Richmond rooftops. there's a bonus to living on the top floor of the tallest home on the block.... a vantage point like no other.  A chilly dampness is filling my apartment..... its been raining off and on for days now. I've watched it all from my kitchen table while I wait.