The Place No One Wants to Visit

I lie in bed last night. I couldn't tell you for how long. It may have been hours. Minutes. I could have dreamed the whole thing. Doesn't matter though because for those hours, minutes, and dreams everything seemed so real that you could have told me that that place never existed and I'd still have been able to give you directions to get there.

I kept thinking about how my grandfather used to recount his high school football practice back in the 20's. He was a halfback and they used to stick the football's meant for the running backs in the freezer overnight so that they'd practically turn to stone. He never forgot the way that his body shook with each handoff. The way the air escaped him. The way he prayed that he wouldn't crack a rib like Tommy did last week.

Kate seemed surprised when I snuggled up to her. I never do that. The first time I ever lay in bed with a woman I remember I was all elbows and shoulders, she was all breasts and ribs. Ever since then I've reacted, rather than acted.

Kevin used to tell me that's how you surfed. You can never force nature to bend to your will, but if you wait, til just the right moment, you can make nature take you anywhere you will yourself to go. That thought always occurred to me as I rolled beneath the waves and tried not to fight. If you don't fight to find the surface then the surface will just appear. It's funny, but when you struggle beneath the waves you have more of a chance of never surfacing then if you just let go.

I've never been very good at just letting go.

I rolled over and placed my arms in that position. I don't why its always been so comfortable. It's looks weird and painful. My right arm stretched above my head as if I'm calling for the abll, my left hand covering my crotch like I'm afraid that's where the ball is going to be thrown.

There is no ball. No cracked ribs. No ocean to drown in.

Just bills and dreams and hopes and worries and the belief that everything is going to work out in the end because that's what your parents always told you. The older you get the more you realize that your parents didn't know everything. They just knew what you knew 2 steps ahead.

I could have dreamed the whole thing. Doesn't matter though because for those hours, minutes, and dreams everything seemed so real that you could have told me that that place never existed and I'd still have been able to give you directions to get there. The one place that everyone knows and no one cares to visit.

Their own head.