Knew Him Once, But Not Any More (Part I)

I've always admired the direness of distances. When I was in high school I would spend hours staring out the classroom windows at the long and infinite stretch of city, grass, and highway. The memory always rings with grey and cloudy skies, although I'm positive there must have been some sunny days as well. My school was one of the tallest buildings in the area, and for miles all you could see were houses, cars, and pavement in every direction. And in the deepest part of the horizon, where the Earth dips into its sightless curve, a fog caressed the distance and the entire world seemed to end there.


I loved the sight of distance, being above, seeing the world laid out before me. Waiting to be journeyed, sailed, grazed and understood. And in the quiet of my admire I would wish silently for the strength and courage of escape, to one day brave the next bus I saw hailing up I-95. There it was, again. Hurring down the highway without me, and I wondered where it was going; to Connecticut or Boston, or Portland…Canada, maybe. Wherever it was, I didn’t care. So long as it would take me somewhere that wasn't home.



The desire to run away doesn't usually detail a destination, and from an early age I've had an uncontrollable desire to simply - Go. Although to where, I couldn't say. Wanderlust, I've heard it's called, and the impulse can be so lawless that the sexual undercurrent, I think, is well deserved. Wanting something I can’t have or want pretty much sums my orgasms entirely. But then again, that’s the benefit of being young: you don’t need an excuse of an endless and misguided optimism for what the future and your life might hold.



But now I’m older, 32 come this fall, and the distance is more a burden and less a mystery. That bus cruising up the Expressway is the MB86 to Rye Beach Connecticut, a two hour trip (depending on traffic) to a coast town that doesn’t have much to it’s name outside Summer. The sand is hot and the water is cool, some boys talk pretty languages but all in all the allure, the heat, the flavor of strange and foreign, it’s…it’s gone. It’s cooled. Not much after the third and second year of recycled Mon-Ami’s.


Every flight and train ride outside of this city is one google search and Buy-Ticket-Now click away, and while I finally have the means, to run and do what my longing and heart wills…I haven’t the heart to see it through.



Because I’m older now, I know precisely what waits in the lands I haven’t seen: more of the same people, the same houses, the same trees, the same buildings. There is nothing new under the sun, and when you reach a certain age life consistently fails to bewilder, yet remains loyally under-and-over whelming. Which is why when Kevin asked me to marry him, I wasn’t as surprised as he thought I’d be. Especially when I said,






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Comments (4)

  1. PTF


    March 05, 2017
    1. lXxEpicxXl

      Thanks for always taking time out of your day to read my things and telling me what you think.

      March 05, 2017
      1. PTF

        It’s your pleasure.
        In the mean time our President Trump’s privacy has been violated by wire tapping from Barack "Jay Z " Obama. The evidence is so overwhelming the liberal controlled politics is putting America into denial and this has to stop.

        March 06, 2017
        1. lXxEpicxXl


          March 07, 2017