Old Enough, Not Young Enough

Our Foggy Love by ~swagmanshutter on deviantART

It failed to rain despite of the dark hanging in the East sky. Naturally it was hard hot, humid, and disappointing. A wisp of rain did come later in the afternoon, but it went after a minute, and we were already tangled in the awkward parts of the bed to even notice or even wanting to celebrate. The moment we stirred to catch a droplet of the rain, it had subdued and left us, again hot, humid, disappointed and exhausted.

Deciding to sit at the back porch, there was a silent agreement not to complain about the stalled rain and our wasted effort. Our bare skin rubbed next to each other in the minimal comfort of the old cheese-holed couch. There was wind. It forced sleep as it caressed the eyelids. The dogs resorted to the same old spot they always laid on. My head was very light.

Everything in the house is relatively old. The kitchen is relatively new but the appliances set about and in it were old. The garden is relatively new, but the grass already grew tired, dying. The dogs had grown a habit of digging the earth in the flowerbed without apparent reasons. The earth is never new, the digging is also ancient.

I’m relatively new. I hadn’t spent enough time in the house to make me no longer new.

We were new. This is undisputable.

We had the silent equivalent of a loud row at dawn because he failed to show up at the required time, and when he did show up he was drunk, although not drunk enough to laugh about it. He blamed me not calling. I blamed him for not listening. We made up before the sun came up.

“Do you ever get jealous? When it comes to me, I mean.”

“Jealousy wastes my time. I have enough to think about right now, I don’t need to add it up with jealousy.” He didn’t even stop to contemplate. I didn’t pause to analyze this. But…

Suddenly I felt really old. His moves were old. I felt we really are old enough, old enough for almost anything. Of course, I didn’t say what’s in my mind. He didn’t say anything either.

We got up and left the house under the watch of the dogs for our dose of air-conditioned room with decent coffee. Along the way I stared jealously at our hands not holding. In my head I can hear myself saying, “Do you think it’s because I’m not young enough for you?”