Journal entry, 4/5/98 Palm Sunday

4/5/98 Palm Sunday. Neil came to mass in Nicasio.We went over to the Druid’s Hall for the annual church brunch. We took a hike up the hill above the church. He was reciting Malvolio’s lines for the play. We walked down to the old school house, stopping into the Rancho to say hi to Danny the bartender who bought us two beers, and then we had dinner at Sinead’s, it was family day to the max. He was about to leave around 5 PM with a little arm twisting he stayed for dinner.

On top of the hill we goofed around. He got me into an interesting hold, bending me back into his arms and up into the air not once, but three times so it look like we were doing the tango. Maybe we were, only there was no music. Suggestive much? I don’t know, I’m feeling a bit cold towards him.

I don’t know where we are going, but at the top of the hill we had a good time. We lay in one another’s arms, facing skyward until the dampness of the grass caught our attention. The long slow body contact, holding hands as he recited his lines, I didn’t know what to think. What are we, Victorians? Entire novels have been written about this kind of foreplay. Some eye contact, but beyond the superficial glance, I don’t read anything into it at this point because I’ve been there before.

As we came down the hill he said that he was there for me—whatever that means. Is it merely my coldness or is the spark really gone? He asked me to transform my love, have I done so or is it merely a form of denial?

Later I drew the runes and asked if it was over, and instead, I got strength. So I asked again and I got separation, but reversed, followed by the great awakening. All three cycles represent self -change, and terminations equal new beginnings. What am I to make of this? At first I thought it was completely negative reading as in yes it’s over, but upon closer inspection more meets the eye, though I harbor little hope.

In the bar I got pretty blitzed on one beer and I refused to give him his cues unless he gave me a wee kitty. He offered his cheek instead, and I said, no you got to kiss me on the lips, and so he kissed his finger and then touched my lips after meowing like a kitty. So I didn’t exactly win my point.

He may honestly have not remembered our dalliances last year before the accident. I didn’t give him my notes yet but I did give him the poems, which he read. I’m also on my period so I’m a bit more bitchy in general. We are more scrappy, but it’s definitely a new phase. He made a few references to last Palm Sunday about dragging me across the field like Maureen O’Hara in The Quiet Man. I said you’re too late, you had your chance. He was also admiring my ankles after mass, I had low heels on. The only form of touching allow these days is wrestling but the very fact that we are wrestling is an improvement over the past few months.

It was good to revisit the past in public, so we could not fulminate or get lost in endless arguments. It was safe ground. The real question—do we still like each other? That’s obvious. We still like body contact too. I told him I’d never be anything but who I already am, and he told me to shush and calm down. I said and you wouldn’t want it any other way. He agreed.

And there’s still more distance between us, separate paths but I need to get going on the lawsuit stuff and I need to not be estranged from him. But we have to resolve this business so we can move onto the next level, whatever that is. I do feel that we are growing apart but our lives are so intertwined.

I told him how difficult it was that he never listened to me or remembered what I said. I hate having to say I told you so, but I’ve been doing it a lot lately. Last semester was a pretty trying time for me. We hugged and he said he felt something of his old self returning. It’s been a long dark passage for both of us. I’m still a little mad at him so I am less willing to trade small favors. I am still smarting from Alison’s remark about my wearing my heart on my sleeve. Oh, so it’s that old game, is it? Does she still hold a torch for him somewhere beneath all that calm exterior? I picked Neil a thistle from the top of the hill. A thorn in each other’s side.