Our little mini vacation, our southern adventure, is coming to an end. We drive home from LA today, likely in the rain. I can hear it outside the window now, whispering, waiting for us to enter.
I fucked things up last night with trying to go see a new Disney movie, Zootopia. I misread the email and went to the wrong address. The boy was terribly upset, as were my friends, and the children of my friends. The boy and I went home and watched a movie off of iTunes and he seemed content.
He has been telling me that he loves me a lot lately. It is very sweet and melts my heart some every time. It pained me to let him down, without any reason other than I had made a mistake. We were both tired and he has not napped once since being here, or, only very briefly in the car.
I was cursing my iPhone, but it was not the phone's fault. When I looked at the email to verify and corroborate my story with the facts it was all my mistake. I was the person that deserved all the blame.
I am hoping for long stretches of sleep for him in the car. Who knows, maybe both of us, if the road is straight enough and cruise control keeps its promise.
The trip has been very good for us. The sense that we are able to conduct big adventures together. The feeling that he and I can do the things in which we choose, a thing which grows out of experience; the best that I can offer, mistakes and all.
There was just a bright flash of light outside, then a few seconds later there was rolling thunder which lasted for several seconds. It has been some time since I have seen or felt such a thing. There is an absence of both in Sonoma. It rains there, but the earth is discharging its energy elsewhere. The rains come and go without much excitement or wonder. Gray gives way to blue, dampness to open sky. I have not seen a single bolt of lightning since moving there, to my memory.
Now the rains have arrived in full. What had been the sound of the skies babbling has become an invocation from above, an inundation. The birth of a curse.
.
