Randall Paul Jenkins, Esq. » Blog Archive » Who Would Honestly Build A City In A Desert?

It’s all so surreal though, the situation, how we met. Every conversation we have there in my memory as if I only dreamed it. Maybe I am just piecing together all the great moments before the fall from all my past situations. It’s just a compilation, a really good compilation. So she calls, and she only calls when I don’t expect it, and half the time her words are brilliance, and strangely enough the other half isn’t just me talking. I wonder as Im listening to her if I hung up and called her back would she really be there, I’ve thought about doing it, actually hanging up the phone, in mid-sentence to dodge suspicion, but I can’t risk it. Of course I already know the future, it’s not that I’m acknowledging some inner gift, I just know the plans. She’s moving away, she doesn’t live close to begin with and she’s moving farther. And when she get’s back from her stay oceans away, she will at least share this continent with me for a while. All I can really hope for is continuence of the motivation. Ever since we met, motivation. We talked for hours, well I wanted it to be hours. And I listened, she makes me want to listen. And we had things in common, that’s all. I never thought it would go anywhere, and it hasn’t. Her letters, as she typed to me filling me in on each random thought. Those were what caught me, those were what was so powerful. She is so much more interesting than anything else, and so real.

As my parent’s close in on old I am noticing I need to devote more time to them. And I’m at my Fathers and we been have playing golf all day, mostly worried if I look the part. So we are there, He, a family friend, and I; and we are reminiscing. We think of old times we had, we’ll mostly that they had and I reflect forward on similar ones I might have at some point in my life. And I realize it is never good to swear you “smoke pot and forget it” in front of your Father. So my Step-Mother begins the grilling, “are you dating anyone?” To which I always want to reply something, but none really seem that special, and any great joke would only prove confusing. And I’m not gay.

She, this is the interesting one, asked if people think I’m gay (they do) and she clearly pointed out all my gay qualities. I am okay, I have confidence in my woman liking abilities, they will not fade. After all, she is interesting.

I live with my Mother but rarely see her. My hours are spent out, making sure the things I do are done, no one really understands me, what I do. So we agree on dinner and I eventually get home from work to wait as she takes a phone call for 20 minutes. Yes I was late, but the phone was after I was there, and it still lasts 20 minutes. So I drive to dinner, as apparantley Mom has had a few glasses of wine. We discuss plans for vacation, a few days off for me to fly to Sedona, to the timeshare. Talk turns to her Father who is altogether great, and at times my nemesis. His status is on the decline, and although I am confident it is normal and he is doing good for his age, it affects my Mother. She is suggesting I spend time there this weekend, and I agree. As we are seated I notice Mom is a little loud, and can’t remember what she wanted to order. I do not fully grasp the part of the conversation where “a few drinks” apparantley meant drunk. We begin the conversation about the vacation again, I hit all my marks, my lines are solid. I look for a cut, but we are apparently still rolling. We discuss a barbeque at the house this weekend that my sister will be having, and how I should go. This however conflicts with the “my hanging out with her Father” plans we made in the previous take. She suggests she meant some time, that she is staying the night there so I would not come. I look around the room, something has changed.

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