This evening on my way to the gym, I passed the demolition site at Waterloo Towne Square, as I always do. More unusually, though, I saw a couple standing next to one of the purple plywood walls erected around the site, a few feet off the sidewalk. She had her back against the wall, and he was standing facing her. I thought it a bit unusual to see a couple of their age group making out in such a public place (he had a full head of grey hair; she looked a little younger). Then as I passed I saw that something quite different was going on. She was hunched over, her face contorted and turned to the side, her arms bent and up in front of her. He was leaning over her and embracing her, his arms around her body, her arms against his chest. I don’t know what was going on, but it was not happy. I’m not a heartless person, but I desperately wished I could have taken a picture of it. It was just so unexpectedly jarring and human.
I finally finished Harry Potter today after work. Man, that was depressing. An excellent read, as always, but certainly not unicorns and rainbows escapist fantasy. It’s amazing how much power JK Rowling has. Not because she’s worth a billion dollars (there’s a rags to riches story for you, eh?), not because she’s the darling of the publishing world, but because she has an iron grip on the emotions of millions of people. Harry wins and we win. Harry loses and we lose. And not only children, who the books are ostensibly aimed at, but adult fans as well. What a staggering realization that would be. What a feeling of responsibility. Although, I have a suspicion that Ms. Rowling has to answer to Harry himself more than she has to answer to fans, if that makes any sense.
Andrew and I have walked the dogs, watched Family Guy, gone to the movies, and we are going mountain biking with friends and I have been invited to Sunday dinner. The only real visible evidence that we’re not together, besides not being physically intimate, is that he’s been unfailingly courteous, solicitous, and complimentary. Not that he wasn’t always a gentleman, but I have received more compliments from him in the last two weeks than in the past two years. Yes, I know a specific effort is being made, and it’s very nice, and I appreciate all he’s doing. I also know there’s a danger to this. A lulling into a false sense of security and “normalcy”. Things have changed, and will continue to do so. And yes, he is most definitely having his cake and eating it, too. So be it, for now. It’s nice to just hang out, to be yanked down a sidewalk by a beagle, to roll my eyes at bad movie previews, and to try out new adventures (watch out collarbone!) It’s nice to be able to swallow food and sleep soundly and look in the mirror without cringing and not feel like curling up in a corner when I have to make it through a full day of work. Can’t control the future, so I’m just managing myself one day at a time. To thine own self be enough. Just so, Mr. Ibsen, just so.