Falling Giants (part 6)

I have been home one day.

Not unpacked.

Not showered.

Written 3 articles, working on this and another.

I have “have to’s” tomorrow. I am on a roll. Set my alarm for 7, I will probably shower and not much else.

I messaged Giant to tell him I am home. He texted me last week. Thought it was sweet he couldn’t wait to talk to me. In retrospect I think he had something to tell me and didn’t spit it out. I spooked him most likely. I do that sometimes.

I said “I thought I’d come home and you’d be moving her in”. “Her” being his version of hot neighbor.

This one has a name, but I won’t speak it. She is not a traveling waitress, and she is rather lovely. She has good hair, just like Becky.

He invited me for afternoon tea, and I just knew.

I think I knew last week. Had a thought that soon he would be with her so it mattered not what I was doing or feeling, which happened to be a lot.

I knew about her because he told me. Just like I told him about the Last One.

Never did come up with a nickname for him, as ominous as “The Last One” sounds, it suits him. He with the freckles and the dark eyes and the ridiculously beautiful hair. Did I mention he was a ginger Italian? I didn’t know they made those. Like unicorns or other mythical creatures, he has disappeared into the woods, leaving me to question whether he ever existed at all.

He predicted the future, maybe he was more psychic than I knew. Maybe he was saving himself and freeing me to go away. I am glad I did, even with the withdrawal I am experiencing at this moment.

Away was good, so good I am going again. I decided to base this next trip to Florida on how I did on this last trip to Newfoundland. Then changed my mind and realized I get this one life and I will not pass up a chance to be by the ocean. So that’s that then.

Had I stayed with the Last One, I wouldn’t have gone anywhere but to him. I know this to be the truth and I said so out loud. I think I only went to Newfoundland because I was so sad about him. I needed reprieve from this house I built for his return.

What’s really gonna cook your noodle later is would you have still broken the vase had I not said anything? The Oracle, The Matrix

Did he know something I didn’t? He very specifically said I was going to fuck a fisherman. And I did. And if you have been reading up until now you know it was so good I can’t find the words for it, that’s how good it was.

You might even be disappointed that this isn’t about that. Suck it up. I said I’d get to it and I will.

Sarah Connor said there is no fate but what we make. Carved it into a picnic table. And I think she is right.

I think I was so sad for a while there because it wasn’t my destiny to be broken, barely able to get out of bed.

I spent years at the farm having my hand forced by the whim of a man. I decided on the Last One, but the universe had other plans, and I was to launch no matter what.

It was like a bow and arrow, I got pulled back through immense pain and stretching, nestled into my most comfortable and hurled into the literal future. I touched heaven and have now began my long decent back to earth.

While I was gone, things reset again.

I remember the grieving that never ended when the Giant went away the first time. As easy as I remember the elation when he returned.

This time I just asked if it was “time to exit quietly, stage left?”

“What’s the protocol?”

I answered “second verse same as the first, you’ll have to drop my movies off here and I will try to be good.”

No drama. Just falling leaves. Seasons changing again.

He went on to say my pussy is magic. Yep, some kind of rabbit in a hat that makes men vanish.

Silk scarves of neverending bullshit pulled from their mouths.

Wow, I got bitter there for a second.

I am back now.

And I am grateful.

Grateful for knowing how to love these men who come to me.

And for finally having the grace to let them go.