Cosmic flashback

Posted on July 21, 2014

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A couple of weeks ago I had lunch with a friend at the Cosmic Cup. I needed some ink cartridges for my printer, so I parked at the Office Depot across the street. As I stood on the median in the middle of Oak Lawn Avenue and looked at the funky, colorful old house, I had a flashback to a sunny winter day quite a few years ago. I had browsed around Office Depot with DK while he shopped for office supplies and then we walked, as I was doing now, across Oak Lawn to the cheerful and charming Cup. We sat across from each other, shared a plate of hummus and naan, drank chai tea and talked.

From this distance of time, I now think that for DK, to be in my company in a place like the Cup – both of which he would have considered ‘off-kilter’ – well, for him, that would have been allowing himself a taste of a world not his own but one that sometimes beckoned to him. I have a feeling he doesn’t do much bohemian slumming anymore.

Cosmic Cup in July

 

This is the first Half Agony post I’ve written in almost six months, not long after a loss that was almost too much for me to bear. My mind has been elsewhere than here. I am still processing, coming to terms, learning how to cope and, one day, flourish again.  And yet, in the last couple of months, as my grief has lessened, I sometimes find myself thinking about writing again. For a long while, I felt as if I had lost my voice. But no, it has just been silent while my heart strengthens itself. I still don’t know if or when I’ll finish telling this particular story. I have so many more to tell. But my relationship with DK – what went before it, how it came to be, the years in the middle and how it came to an end – all of that has affected who I am today so profoundly I don’t know that it will ever sleep if I don’t finish telling it. I also just don’t like unfinished business. It niggles at me.

I suppose I’ll pick it back up when that niggling grows too irritating to ignore.

One thing that has been picking at me is why, when I began this memoir two years ago, I opted to call DK … DK. It seems awkward, clunky.

His name is Douglas.

That’s better.

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Posted in: 2014, the bittersweet