Echo

Monday night, Matt calls me and says I should go to Oregon. We need more visibility and he wants me to connect with them. Tuesday morning they’re scrambling to get me set up in Oregon.

Rain and unfamiliar territories. Shitty rental car. Blend in by standing out. Darkness in the light. Assassin. My favorite movie is Grosse Point Blank because it soothes my loneliness with metaphor. First night in a Comfort Inn, I’m assuming every inch of this carpet and comforter is covered in bodily fluid, and I’m afraid of getting STDs on my feet. Motel sleep is always sheet only.

My mama taught me that.

Dream so real that I didn’t know where I was or what dimension. In it, Jerry and I  spoke of firemen. In it we finally connected.

Today was my first day back. I’ve been out of it, focused on what I’ve been working on. I come back from lunch and the entire company, all 135 of us, are gathered together and being lectured by a retired fireman. Today is a mandatory fire drill and disaster training.

Speaking of fire or disaster, before I left for the trip, did I wonder what would happen if I left them alone together? Sure. She’d become more bold in her flirting with him and I tried not to pay attention to it so as not to get caught up in it. But she seemed particularly aggressive today and I was shocked to find she’d come to our gym to watch him play last night. I was fiercely uncomfortable and I ached. I wondered if he kept secrets from me. Then I reminded myself if he was like that then I would be done with him.

A lot of chatter between the two. I went on Amazon and bought a set of bluetooth headphones. No need to let this piss me off.

Later he asked me if I was going to the gym. I said I might. He asked me if I was almost ready to leave so I said sure. She always insists on walking him out. He barely said goodbye to her, we were talking. And so I told him I would go to the gym. And I did.

I was on the roman chair when he came up and asked me if I was done. He didn’t want me to feel like I had to walk him out. I asked him, are you asking me to walk you out? He said, only if you happen to be leaving.

So we walked out together, I wondered, was this it? Were we finally going to talk? He said it’s weird how dark it is now this time of day and between the shadows and glow of the streetlights, I think of the touch of his hand and how he is black and I am black and how scared I am that he’s going to say he knows about the dream and he’s sorry. It should never have happened.

We are alone and talking. We are two people, talking. We are two people talking, alone. Until my aunt drives by and honks.

We say goodbye. See you tomorrow. I tell him I don’t really want to play tomorrow and he says he wants to take it easy, too, so a slow game will be good for us. I wonder why life has brought us to this point, and where it took the rest of us.

The moon through my windshield reminds me the full moon is rising.

As I drive away, I remember firemen.

My jealousy works in funny ways. The moment I feel it, rather than digging in, my response is to let go of the object. Give up. Not want it anymore. I have a low threshhold for emotional competition. I don’t feel healthy if there’s jealousy present. It makes me feel like I would rather give up all those feelings around a person or object, the desire and the feelings of being threatened, because if something was mine, it would be mine regardless. In this case it’s not mine to begin with and a 3rd party is ramping up aggression. And I don’t like what’s happening in my subconscious. I don’t want to care about any of this.

My dreams last night took me to a place so deep I woke up to a reality that felt less real.

Jerry and I were cleaning out a garage. He was helping me because I’d asked him to. I noticed our hands kept touching but he and I–it is what it is so as always I feel nothing for him except a twitch of something buried so deep inside it exists in a dimension that is not this one.

It was exhausting and we collapse in these two white sofa chairs. We were talking about firemen or something. Our hands touch and I push my mind away from it immediately out of habit but this time, he curls his fingers into mine and he is holding my hand. We are connected. His hand was cool, not exactly soft, but very real. Skin I remember from a time beyond time. The hands of a man that brought a universe of feelings to my throat but I couldn’t say a word. I couldn’t even look at him. Just sat there, frozen by his touch.

Come here, he said. I look at him and he’s looking at me the way I catch him sometimes. But this time it’s out there. It’s no longer hidden. I get up and sit down, kind of on him because the seat is only big enough really for one person and he wraps his arms around me and kisses me, and his lips are soft and gentle and remind me of an entire distant lifetime but I know it’s wrong because he doesn’t belong to me this time around. Someone will get hurt now.

He says to me to be patient. That he’ll figure it out but it’ll be “after” and I’m at once furious because after all this it’s still not me and I’m sad because this is tragic. She’s a good woman and I have broken my moral code. I have broken myself because of not being able to let go.

That’s all it was. The handhold. One kiss. Despair. I woke up to find it was exactly 7:30 and I was supposed to be at a breakfast meeting. I never got my wake up call. As I scrambled to get ready, I couldn’t stop thinking about the dream. It was hauntingly real, the textures, the way I felt so high and so low at the same time. Throughout the rest of the day, battle after battle, my mind never left the touch of his fingers curling around mine.

The dream scared me.

6 meetings back to back meeting with different groups. Our brand is my responsibility. My team is my responsibility. First I owned the fool who has been cockblocking my team then I dove deep. Infiltrated. Coerced. Commanded. Seduced. Men or women, I’ll take ’em all. Outward-facing title–Director of Strategic Alliance. Internal-facing…so many people ask me what exactly I do for my company. If you got close to me and paid attention, you’d see it on my nameplate.

It’s all about perception.

Mission accomplished. This VP tries telling me he’s worked with AMAX for 12 years but he doesn’t believe he’s ever met the leadership. I asked him to take a moment and say it again if he really believed that. He looked me in the eye and said he didn’t think he has. He asked me, why, who is it?

I asked him what the most important piece in chess is. He said the rook. I asked him what piece is every other piece trying to protect? He said, the queen.

I said, if you don’t think you’ve met the leader yet, the team’s doing a great job.

Remember the name. I just ran circles around you in front of your team.

Packing my bags. I feel like a ninja who has been handed a mission. Infiltrate Intel. Seduce. Coerce. Command. The deadliest assassin is always the queen.

Once upon a time he traveled back in time and found himself, moving forward.

Sometimes I don’t know how plans fall apart but it’s about grabbing the new one and playing along.

Sometimes I forget they’re not awake.

I’m being totally tested. It’s a new cycle. The key is to not forget previously earned strengths and status, and to learn where the current tests are by the opposition and the flow.

“My asshole hurts.”

Love overhearing the conversations of strangers out of context.