Walkabout

I went for a long walk today.

There is a cold front moving down from the North. I hear that it will snow in Maine this week. In Alexandria, the air is chilly and the leaves are pouring out of the trees, marking the time like grains of sand in an hourglass.

I have a lot of work to do if I want to make things matter. I try to keep this in mind as I work. It is difficult to keep my face to some distant patch of faded blue when the world has been torched behind me and the heat still sears my back. Even this space is not sacred - and I cannot share the details of my thoughts and actual work because I refuse to let the contents of my mind be kindling for the next blaze. But I continue to work for hours each day.

The conversation between my lawyer and the company soured towards the end of last week and we are looking for some sort of amicable divorce. I wish to have a clean break. Clean breaks are good. It will make the betrayal easier to manage in my own mind. I can fold it and put it into a box someplace.

When I saw Sjors in Amsterdam Centraal in May and I finally felt the break between us, it was the first time in years that I felt relief. It is far worse to have your soul perpetually stretched out, feeling the resonance with your other half, longing to help the other person, longing to touch, to give and receive comfort, aid and support. There is no doubt that part of my soul was taken in the severing. But when I felt the sinews give and finally snap, I knew that I could close out the pain at last. I will never be complete. Never whole. But sometimes I have the mercy of forgetfulness.

I was with someone on Friday when my lawyer called: a date with a man I will call David because the name suits him better than his own. We met before the sun set so we could see the world before it became dark. When I arrived, he was taking pictures of the boats in the marina. He was clever and interesting and poised. We had good conversation. He talked a lot.  He drank a beer and I had wine. We shared an appetizer.

I excused myself when the phone rang, and I watched blankly out over the water while I listened to the story: how opposing counsel had begun to discuss severance because it was more important to my company that I admit guilt for something I didn't do than to retain my good value and hard work. Nobody could say anything about the quality of my work - everything I've done is excellent. But they wanted to be sure that I stitched a scarlet "A" on my clothes.

I returned to David and, on an impulse, told him what was happening. I was surprised to find that he had the imagination and analytical ability to accept and process what I told him, and then offer a unique perspective: "They want you to admit guilt for something you did not do. And, if you don't agree, they will fire you and otherwise harm your reputation...That sounds like extortion to me."

I liked David. He didn't seem bothered by either my covert watchers, nor my new status as an unemployed person. We went to a club and smoked a $20 cigar together and drank scotch. Then we returned to my place and continued the conversation, drinking chocolate wine and green tea. I showed him my reports from the past three years and he talked about his current consulting gig. We opened a pomegranate and tried out a new technique for removing the seeds. He kissed me. The way he used his hands reminded me of the way Hans used to gentle me: tender hands on my skin and hair. I considered how different I am now than I was when Hans first touched me. So much pain and experience carved into me.

I didn't have sex with David, although he stayed the night. The things that have happened in these past few weeks are bound to have an impact. They probably have. I haven't had time to assess the damage, but if I think that I'm not in shock then I'm deluding myself.

I thought about this as I walked today. I also thought about the way that David treated me: with level-headed interest and frank sexual desire.  I was glad for this. I don't know if its possible for me to be with anyone after having (and losing) what I did with Sjors, but it is wrong not to try.

I thought (as I always do) about Sjors. I cannot prevent this any more than I can prevent myself from breathing or collapsing from exhaustion at 4 AM (as I must do in a few minutes). Strangely, the thing that concerns me most is Sjors' integrity. I worry about the damage he has caused to his psyche and soul by behaving in such a cowardly and self-protective manner. I worry that he will live in hell for the rest of his life. We become what we pretend to be. His actions have defined him now - not his feelings nor the truth of the soul that I knew to be Sjors. "In the beginning was the deed". He has made such compromises, and betrayed so fully, the only two ways for him to continue on with his life are 1) to deliberately shut out the screaming voice of conscience that reminds him of his actions against the truth, or 2) to confess and try to make amends. I believe he will try to self-justify and compartmentalize the feelings, but I desperately wish for him to be the whole complete man - the joyful soul I once new.