Down on My Lucky Knees
I don’t often pray, but I did today. Yesterday was without doubt the worst day of my life. The second-to-worst day was Tuesday two weeks ago, when Maria left me. Losing her was tough, seeing her anguish even tougher. But to realize yesterday that I could, without thinking, add to her distress by blogging about her private life? That absolutely laid me out. I got so drunk, I threw my laptop on the floor. I lay flat on my back and felt sick that I was a total jerk. Big Bird circled and cackled above my head. I hoped if I lay still long enough — if I played dead — I would be.
Then I dreamt I was in a narrow glade edged with trees made of people — twisted torsos petrified into tree trunks. Only the peoples’ faces moved. When they did, they expressed mournful misgiving. I must have been picturing the fate I now deserved. Something right out of Dante’s Inferno. When I woke, the sun was filtering into the room. I got stood up halfway, then sat back down on my knees. Then I prayed.
“God, you’ve worked miracles before. I don’t deserve one, but you know I need more help than most people. Please help Maria to forgive me. Help us both to forgive and forget what’s past, so we can look forward to our future together. Please, God.”
I was doing a load of laundry when I got her text. She said she was at her grandmother’s and she wanted to see me. She would write out the directions and email them. She said she would wait there for two days. She didn’t say anything about my recent posts. At least we are texting. However, right now I’d say my chances of getting back with Maria, really back together, are about the same as finding a four-leaf clover in a rainforest.