Nonsense

the relationship gets put on a pedestal and pretty soon the people within the relationship don’t matter as much as the potential imprint their fantasy is capable of achieving.

they hold hands in mixed company, exchange ‘private’ glances intended for everyone to see but when they get home not a word is shared between them.

they hate each other.

how did you know when it was over? the kids asked.

ha.

that’s not a question you answer. it’s pretty much none of their business.

but between you and me, it came down to math. trigonometry to be exact.

my 9th grade trig teacher had ms and was a beast. a bus brought him to school and took him home each day. he was sixty-two. i remember his age because i asked him how old he was. at that age i still didn’t know what was right or wrong to ask and at his age he didn’t give a fuck.

he taught me it was okay to go off on a tangent and my heart feels kinda funny about it because he’s not here anymore. ‘cept he is. on another plane.

someday i’ll get over that plane but for now i’m still flying.