Morning Pages, March 17, 2011
\1. I wake up and she’s just about to leave. I get a kiss on the cheek as I lay there barely aware, and I want to say so much in that moment. I want her in my dreams, for us to escape in there and doze. And maybe I dream that she kisses me. Maybe she doesn’t. She might just drink her coffee and dress and look at herself and go. I think I say I love you but I can never be sure. Even if I ask later, when we’re doing the dishes from a dinner she’s made, if I told her that I loved her. She might say I did, not wanting to tear away my own idea of how much I mean it. And if she lies, I hope she is only doing it for me, and not for her own heart, if I have neglected it for more sleep.
\2. We are off by a little. She always wakes before me and sleeps before me. I can never seem to sync up properly. The problem grates on me. There is so much to catch up on, so I never properly catch up on sleep, until the morning, when I regret staying awake for things that are not her goodbye kiss.
\3. I think we’d always like the ability to hit pause and restart. I think that function, above all else, is why men of my age are obsessed with virtual worlds. Undo is a god of a promise.
\4. That’s why Braid is probably the most heartbreaking game ever made. It takes that promise, the ability to affect time for your own advantage, and it shows that even with that power, we can’t quite save the princess. The game is a sonnet of our failure as men to be there at the right time, doing the right thing, making her happier than we actually can. We are all fuckups, incapable of keeping our priorities in check. I am ruined, just like everyone else, because I can’t figure out how to keep that goodbye kiss in my mind all the time.
\5. I have been properly awake at times, but the words never come on those mornings. They only exist in the space after sleep, when I can only really see the shape of her, and she exists in the same space as my dreams. And then I can’t really say them. She might not even be there, and I can’t say them to an empty room, though I wonder if I did if she’d get the message anyway, in another room somewhere away from me.