November 19, 2014 at 12:34 pm (Sweet sticky things)

Rain has been living with me for a couple years, off and on. It’s a cozy arrangement. I have a bedroom that’s about 12×15, in which we share a single bed, and a TV slightly larger than that. That we haven’t killed each other is a testament to ongoing love, because I’m sure we’ve both been tempted a couple times. Despite rough spots, I’ve really enjoyed having her with me.

But, it’s time for space. When the winter shelters open downtown, she volunteers and stays there. We’d been planning her departure for yesterday, opening day, but because of cold weather the shelter opened last week. Rain has been volunteering, and staying with me at night. Yet she held to schedule, and night before last, when I got home from work, she was in full-on packing mode.

My bed was piled four-feet-high solid with clothes. How the fuck did she get all those clothes condensed into that tiny roller suitcase? No wonder the seams had broken. The new suitcase was a collapsible jobber, big enough to hide me or her inside. (“Road trip! You ride in the bag…”) She stuffed four smaller bags inside the big one. Eventually she cleared the bed off, and I fell to sleep. It was about 6 AM.

I awoke about 10 AM. She was still up, but fading. She’s always asking, “Aren’t you sick of me and all this crap of mine in your room?” Even on the rare occasion her stuff does bug me, I keep quiet. It’s like that snoring that bugs you to death. You miss it so bad when it goes away you can’t sleep, because you miss her so much…

I rolled out of bed, put my feet on top of her suitcase next to the bed, looked her in the eye, and said, “Okay, THIS is too much!” I said it with a smile, but she wasn’t looking.

“It’ll be gone tonight. I’M LOADING IT TO LEAVE, REMEMBER?”

Ooh, testy. I backed off. I loaded up and left for work. I’m guessing my room will be a lot roomier after midnight.

About 8 PM, I got a call from Rain. “How you doing, babe? Did you get it moved?”

“Well…” she said. “I was wondering if I could stay one more night? I have to rethink my packing. I can’t drag this thing. It’s too big!”

“Of course,” I said. I wasn’t in a hurry to sleep alone. “It’s like that old Johnny Cash song, where he built a Cadillac in his living room? ‘That’s cool, but how you gonna get it out of your house?'”

About ten minutes to midnight, she showed at work. We met at the bus stop, and went home just like normal.

Now I have this suitcase the size of a Cadillac. We all share a room in Felony Flats. And at the moment it’s sleeping with my girlfriend…

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