Perhaps you will remember the recent post about attending my garden (of women). I did make a valiant effort at pruning, and I thought I’d catch you up on what has transpired.
My first candidate for the shears was Ronnie. I haven’t written very much of her, and with good reason. Frankly, not much has happened. Her inability to arrange suitable get together times has frustrated me for long past the patience of mere mortal males. She has been a major disappointment, and here was the opportune time for me to cut my (time) losses. Then, miracle of miracles, as I slowed the pace of communication and showcased some of my frustrations, she became more responsive. Move her from the definite to go to the maybe can stay pile. Grrrr!
Next for the pruning snips was all communication with Cassandra. Our lives were definitely headed in different directions, and although the fondness and tenderness would always be there (and her for me, I knew), practically speaking there was not going to be any immediate payoff registering on my emotional grid. I had already mentally said goodbye. What remained was just perfunctory closure.
As I transmitted that message to the galaxy, it was received throughout the universe. And the universe decided to respond. A minor action somewhere distant to her world caused a barely noticeable tremor near to her, which led to slow but steady, like a dripping faucet, deterioration elsewhere. This caused mon beau papillon to flutter her wings anew, to explore, and send her own signals out to the galaxy.
When the waltz began, the music, the touching, the renewed closeness lifted her spirits, which in turn, brightened my days.. As a result she has asked to visit. These days we live far, far apart.
But I believe it will happen.