Me Without You
Iko left for this summer's Epic Motorcycle Journey last Friday. Originally the plan was to take 10 days and go all around Central & Eastern Washington, but since that part of the state is on fire they changed the plans into a crisscrossing of Oregon and California. I was anxious about him leaving. What if the power goes out? What if something happens to him?! He told me to calm down, that he would be fine, reminded me where all the headlamps were in the house and that we have plenty of hand warmers for Otis the Hedgehog if he needs them. We had a nice breakfast together at All City Coffee on Friday morning and I kissed him goodbye, wishing him lots of fun on his adventure.
I was anxious, but also curious. Who am I when he is gone? I mean, I think I know, and our identities are pretty distinct, but we rarely spend more than a few hours apart these days. On Friday night I got take-out and marathoned a season of Downton Abbey. Turns out that when I'm on my own I eat like a bachelor, sleep really late, and draw pictures of hedgehogs.
On Saturday, the power went out. So did the internet. I remembered the good advice I got about what to do during outages when I heard the storm was coming and charged all the devices I could. When we lose power our house turns into a tent: electricity runs our light, heat, refrigeration, hot water, water pump-- everything. I kept telling myself to take a shower before we lost power for good instead of anxiously puttering and charging and cleaning. I had just stripped and prepped for bathing when the power went out for good. Oh well.
I had tickets to a show in Seattle, which thanks to the storm turned into 5 hours of white-knuckled travel, avoiding trees and Hawks traffic on the freeways on the way there and torrential downpours in the dark, though parts of town that had to streetlights, on the way home. The show was good and worth it, I think, and I was delighted to come back to a warm, brightly lit home when I got here.
On Monday morning, with a sound like a car crash in slow motion, four sycamores fell on our driveway and in the back yard. My neighbor’s car was right beneath them but the skinny trees did no damage. It was freaky in a non-event kind of way. When I ventured out of the house to take in the recycling, I decided to make my way towards an internet cafe to maybe get some work done. It took willpower to fight the urge to stay home and draw pictures of hedgehogs all day.
Iko called while I was parked at the grocery store. He sounds like he's having a blast. The photos he sends are amusing shots of his motorcycle among breathtaking scenery. About five minutes into our conversation the redneck in the truck next to me turned to leave, didn't see me 'because the dog was in the passenger seat, and [my] car is so low!', and crunched the front quarter panel of my car with his gigantic truck. "Someone's just hit me," I said to Iko. "I'll call you back". Should've stayed home and drawn hedgehogs.
I had run out of ways to rearrange the furniture and things to wash by Monday afternoon, so it's a good thing the internet finally came back on. In an attempt of normalcy I roasted a chicken with root veggies, one of Iko and I's favorite meals. I watched Harry Potter movies until I fell asleep.
Today is the worst so far. I'm deeply unhappy about my job, which the void of daily-dose happiness created by Iko's absence only underlines; a sentiment I've been reluctant to fully admit. I walked to the beach to clear my head, but as I absently scanned the horizon for whales it only made it worse. I miss Iko so bad it makes my chest hurt. I grit my teeth: only a few more days and we'll be together again. Besides, knowing me without him is comforting, in that I am reliably anxious/ easily amused/ calm under pressure/ driven to distraction/ project-oriented as ever, even as many of the things that can go wrong do so while I must manage them alone.
But it's a lot more fun when he's around.
I was anxious, but also curious. Who am I when he is gone? I mean, I think I know, and our identities are pretty distinct, but we rarely spend more than a few hours apart these days. On Friday night I got take-out and marathoned a season of Downton Abbey. Turns out that when I'm on my own I eat like a bachelor, sleep really late, and draw pictures of hedgehogs.
On Saturday, the power went out. So did the internet. I remembered the good advice I got about what to do during outages when I heard the storm was coming and charged all the devices I could. When we lose power our house turns into a tent: electricity runs our light, heat, refrigeration, hot water, water pump-- everything. I kept telling myself to take a shower before we lost power for good instead of anxiously puttering and charging and cleaning. I had just stripped and prepped for bathing when the power went out for good. Oh well.
I had tickets to a show in Seattle, which thanks to the storm turned into 5 hours of white-knuckled travel, avoiding trees and Hawks traffic on the freeways on the way there and torrential downpours in the dark, though parts of town that had to streetlights, on the way home. The show was good and worth it, I think, and I was delighted to come back to a warm, brightly lit home when I got here.
On Monday morning, with a sound like a car crash in slow motion, four sycamores fell on our driveway and in the back yard. My neighbor’s car was right beneath them but the skinny trees did no damage. It was freaky in a non-event kind of way. When I ventured out of the house to take in the recycling, I decided to make my way towards an internet cafe to maybe get some work done. It took willpower to fight the urge to stay home and draw pictures of hedgehogs all day.
Iko called while I was parked at the grocery store. He sounds like he's having a blast. The photos he sends are amusing shots of his motorcycle among breathtaking scenery. About five minutes into our conversation the redneck in the truck next to me turned to leave, didn't see me 'because the dog was in the passenger seat, and [my] car is so low!', and crunched the front quarter panel of my car with his gigantic truck. "Someone's just hit me," I said to Iko. "I'll call you back". Should've stayed home and drawn hedgehogs.
I had run out of ways to rearrange the furniture and things to wash by Monday afternoon, so it's a good thing the internet finally came back on. In an attempt of normalcy I roasted a chicken with root veggies, one of Iko and I's favorite meals. I watched Harry Potter movies until I fell asleep.
Today is the worst so far. I'm deeply unhappy about my job, which the void of daily-dose happiness created by Iko's absence only underlines; a sentiment I've been reluctant to fully admit. I walked to the beach to clear my head, but as I absently scanned the horizon for whales it only made it worse. I miss Iko so bad it makes my chest hurt. I grit my teeth: only a few more days and we'll be together again. Besides, knowing me without him is comforting, in that I am reliably anxious/ easily amused/ calm under pressure/ driven to distraction/ project-oriented as ever, even as many of the things that can go wrong do so while I must manage them alone.
But it's a lot more fun when he's around.