I’m back in San Francisco and depressingly single, so I reconnect with my network of friends. I bring together fellow travelers Jay and Dominique Saturday night at “Writers with Drinks”. I prepare a papaya salad for a Monday night potluck in far-off Oakland. I host a Thursday-night meet-and-greet at Rosemunde Bar for our fall creative coding class. I drive to Sacramento to spend a day and night with Ruben. He may be disappointed by the lack of crazy adventures, but I am happy to catch up with him – anything and everything to stay busy and distracted.
Sorrow teaches me gentleness and patience. I listen better with less judgment. I’m just happy to talk to someone, especially about relationships. Reflection helps get over a breakup, but dwelling does not help.
Greg defiantly won’t contact me as is his prerogative and perhaps wise. Well, not defiant, but I throw charged emotion into the vacuum. His silence devastates me. I perversely reach out to the space that surrounds his empty shadow. I talk to his friends, I listen to his music, and I linger in city spots that meant much to us.