I’ve Got Tears In My Ears

by jkatejohnston

(I’ve decided to try giving my diary entries titles. It’s the only thing I can think of that Al Stephens and the branding wise ones would both approve.)

7 June 2013

Dear Max,

Teresa and Enzo left for Tahoe about three hours ago. They leave and it’s like sixty to zero in three seconds. I walk back in the house, and it’s empty. All the pillows from our pillow fight are scattered around Enzo’s room. The ice cream maker that we bought at a garage sale this morning for two dollars and used right away is on the kitchen counter with melted ice cream in and on it. I walk from room to room wondering what I’m supposed to be doing. The weather is wonderful—sweet and warm. Shouldn’t I be going for a bike ride? Reading?

Instead I watched House of Cards on TV. Teresa and I thought it was unbearably pretentious when we first tried it, but I found that with red wine and popcorn in the afternoon, it was pretty good. I made browned butter and put about five basil leaves in it, stems and all, still warm from the sun. I put that on my popcorn—I mean the basil-browned-butter—with quite a bit of salt. And it was good. Now it’s almost dinner time and I’m a bit lost.

I have a note here that says, “Bridge Over Troubled Water. Squelchy ear buds.” That’s from before Enzo and I went to Texas. The marriage decisions had just come down. I couldn’t sleep, and I was lying in bed listening to the Johnny Cash version of Bridge Over Troubled Water, a song that Teresa said not even he could make her like. But I liked it, and I was lying there in the dark next to her thinking, there she is and here I am, my darling, I will lay me down, if you’re weary, feeling small and so on. I touched her soft bony hand, and lying on my back I started crying a bit, but not sadly, and the tears ran into my ears and made the ear buds all squelchy and pretty soon I was asleep.

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