Everything Since

The setting was familiar. It had become something I’d known – expected for three years. It was the same autumn in Washington, the same shifting season and falling memories. The trees were almost bare and the joggers along Constitution were wrapped in warm wear.

“Do you remember that song More Than This?” We sat on a bench across from the Treasury and watched several soccer teams start to form in the park. I turned a fallen maple leaf in my fingers.

“I think so.”

“There’s this line in the song about falling leaves.” I turned to face him, “About how they can’t say where they’re blowing.”

“Sing it.” His voice was soft. I winced. “Please?” I glanced around to ensure that no one was within hearing distance. I sang a couple of lines, only the ones that were pertinent. His eyes were steady. “Is that you?”

“The song, or the leaf?” I held the leaf out to him.

Taking it from me, he answered, “The song, the leaves. Is it you right now?” I was quiet, unsure how to answer. “It seems like you.” He traced the leaf across my eyebrow and I closed my eyes in response. “Unsure where you’re going.”

I smiled slightly, “What’s new, right?”

My eyes were still closed, but I could hear his smile in the October breeze.. “Well?” I noticed my breath. It was still with him. I was always ready for the next breath with JAG.

“Probably.” I opened my eyes to him. His face was how I always see it; shadows of light in Washington. I’m trying not to be tedious. Really.”

His smile grew and he patted my left leg with his hand, leaving it on my knee. “I don’t enjoy spending time with you because you’re uncomplicated.” He squeezed my knee gently, “You help me feel better about being complicated.”

I rested my left hand on top of his. “Thanks.”

He turned his head to me. “For all of it.” He whispered into my ear and I felt his sunburned lips, “For that.”

He pulled closer to me and held my hand, leaning forward to face the ground. “What are you doing, John?”

I knew the question from the thousand times I’d posed it to myself. I let his settle on the room for a moment, not wanting to step out of the perfect moment that was happening. But perfect moments end and that’s what helps us to remember and recognize them. “I’m waiting, I think.”

“When will you stop waiting?”

“The thing is, I don’t like to cry and that’s happened this year for the first time in a decade.” I felt the knot in my throat that had reasserted itself. “I’m trying to hold it all together.”

“For who? For what?” He paused and drew breath. “Damn. You’ve got your controls locked so tight, but it hasn’t worked for you for how long, now?” His tone wasn’t accusatory. It was a question that wasn’t new and one that JAG could get away with because of it.

“For whatever’s next, I guess.”

“Are you going to know what’s next when you find it?” I was tired. In every way that it’s possible, I was tired. I remained quiet. “Can I tell you something without you getting angry?”

“Probably not,” I nudged him with my elbow, “but when did that start to matter?”

“I think you let yourself die ten years ago. Everything since then has been for everyone but you.” When I didn’t respond he drew up and released my hand. “I’ve tried to get in there,” he pressed his hand into my chest, squeezing gently, “but I don’t know if there’s a way, anymore. It makes me sad because I believe it’s a good place to be, John.”

My eyes were filled with all of the reasons why I’m pathetic and broken. I managed a quiet, “I’m so sorry.” I turned my head into the wind, hoping the cold breeze would stop the pools that were ready to flood my eyes.

He leaned forward on the bench, “Hey, I’m not looking for an apology, John.” He reached for my chin and turned my head to face him. “I’m pulling for you.” He pressed a thumb at the base of my eye and wiped at it. “I wish this didn’t live inside of you and around us.”

Groaning with frustration, I reached up quickly and wiped at my eyes. I felt completely exposed and foolish. “This is so completely stupid. I’m just so sick of me.” I looked at him and felt a rush of embarrassment. “Can we please just be quiet together for awhile?”

He answered by straightening up and wrapping an arm around me. We sat there in silence, JAG wanting to find a way into a place that probably doesn’t exist anymore, and me trying to find a way out of a place that was never as perfect as I’ve wanted it to be.