February 28, 2016

Pains


The image was painted by Fitzgerald, one of the most talented artists and thinkers I've ever had the chance to meet. This is his first watercolor endeavor, and damn, if it isn't brilliant. An abstract Deadpool...created entirely out of Fitz's own wonderful mind.

I'm home alone for the first time in--(?) And I'm warding off tears, giant ones, those ones that only spill when something means something. [Inset: they just exploded out of my face. Now I've got ruddy streaks of broken heart on my cheeks. Easy like Sunday morning.]

I don't know precisely what happened. Jon turned 40 on Friday and went upstate to pick up Fitz and I worked and we met up in the evening...I had battled with the idea of buying him "Beats by Dre" to supplement his revival of his music passion and wound up doing so...I had been thinking of it for weeks prior to his birthday, and went all in to do so, walked the long haul from my office to the Best Buy at 5th and 44th, debated headphones (all while sweating profusely in my oversized winter stuffy coat) and finally went with my gut, the Beats.

I took the E to Forest Hills and stopped at Banter to wait for the Hatch boys. We would then meet at Key Food and collect dinner accoutrements and head to Burns Street for his birthday.

Chicken, potatoes, red velvet cake. The simple things in life, right? Jon and Fitz wanted cake before dinner. I complied and sliced it and served it (even though I don't eat cake.) Fitz and I taped up a number of fake box "presents" to present to Jon before finally offering him the blue tissue-paper wrapped Beats, complete with action figures that Fitz taped to the sides. :)

Everything seemed fine.

Everything always seems fine.

I don't know what happened?

A comic book store trip, a playground adventure (basketball practice, fitness bar experience, and Fitz and I swung and sang "Private Eyes" over and over), slow cooker food...in any event, something happened, and today I'm alone in my apartment in Brooklyn, having cried whale pools of tears and there are more to come.

I left Queens last night. He has made it clear that that was a huge step "back" for us.

Really, Jon?

I newly discovered an old Elliot Smith album that I had never heard before, Roman Candle. I was bowled over, and Jon was an angel about it. He's an angel about just about everything.

We listened to it together yesterday. He grabbed his guitar and strummed a little bit along.

I said, "Are you learning these songs for me?"

He said, with a sweet smile, "Maybe."

Today is the day he drives Fitz upstate to Fitz's mom's house.

I normally go on this drive. Today, I am not. I guess I will await the outcome of that. And maybe he will just destruct everything because he thrives on...not intentionally...but he thrives on things being destroyed.

If I could just tuck him under my collar and show him that love and good things are real.