That summer was unreal: I was eleven or twelve years old and the humidity was unbearable. Everything was slo-mo'd out. I couldn't bear to hear the neighbor kids laffing in the yard.
This past summer, ENB spent a month living/studying in Italy while I stayed back, in the deep shit of a huge project while taking care of the little man.
He was sick but I didn't know how badly. Meanwhile, the project became another full time job. Rarely did I leave the house.
Sometimes this city is such a joke. Any time a lil' storm comes along, power goes out everywhere. People get the crazies. I ran out into a wild gale in my boxer shorts without realizing my balls were exposed via a hole in the fabric. I screamed into the storm & came back inside.
But there were moments of respite & humor.
But I couldn't tell you what was going on for the life of me. What was up, what was down.
And I can't tell you how much I still miss the little man. Sometimes the wound feels so raw.
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