Yesterday I watched the entire first season of Hamish Macbeth. Today I bought a CD/DVD of Trashcan Sinatras, Julie's favorite Scottish band. My efforts to worm my way into her affections is another track than the one I was on. Whereas once my reading took me to Scotland, now it takes me there with Julie, and being there seems secondary to the company.
Tomorrow I go back to work, and of course I'm eager to see her, but I feel unready to, as if in the meantime all the clues have fallen into place for her, and whatever eagerness she has to see me is only to ostentatiously expose the Fool. I have a feeling it will be an avoidance day. I'm becoming impatient and want to drop more clues in order to expedite the process; only now I'm thinking I want Julie to be the last one to know, though I will try to at least feign ignorance myself. Now that Stacey knows I wonder how much it's killing her, or if some silly machinations are whirring in her brain. And I want Stacey to care that way. I want her to want to do something about it. I want her to search in my and Julie's faces for the spark when we're in the same room. I want to see her trying hard not to start something. I want her to show that she knows, and not just show me. But she has to believe she's still keeping my secret.
^I can't listen to the Trashcan Sinatras anymore. They are Julie's, not mine. She introduced them to me nearly a year before I began writing this journal; told me about them the first day I met her. But they could never be mine any more than she could.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment