What time did I crash? 7? 8? I set the alarm only to wake up around noon, staring up at the walls. I would flip over on my stomach and look blurry eyed at my cell phone, seeing if he had called. Back on my back, force myself to sleep. Flip around some more. Stared at the ceiling. Leaned over the edge of my bed and stared at the floor.
Half-awake, half-dream, I dreamt I was sitting across the table from him. Out came the story. We can’t do this. We cant do this. We can’t do this. I’m sitting there with my hands in my lap watching him fiddle with a cigarette.
We can’t do this again.
You want romance and reassurances he said. You used to just take things with confidence. I got tired of that I said. Why, he asked. Men became passive. It was always excepted me to be assertive. He laughed. I understand he said — Do you, I asked?
He called while I was sleeping. I had turned my ringer off — I didn’t want to know
I’ve been trying to call him back and his phone is turned off. He got maybe 2 1/2 hours of sleep. I hope he is sleeping, napping somewhere. I wonder what he dreams.
I was the first. I told him that. I had you first, therefore my claim is mine.
I wish I still had a cadillac, he said bearing down into my eyes.
Yes. I laughed. Why I asked?
Because we could go for a ride and everything would be as it was.
You just want to have sex in the backseat of the caddy I said.
Is that so wrong?