The Trickster Diaries/Chapter 102
Funny. It was during my relationship with Amina, a live-in girlfriend for a couple years, late ’80’s, when I—when we both—decided counseling might be a good idea. But it was now, after Juliette, when I considered it a plausible alternative to the relentless, useless analytics buzzing around my brain, landing on an opinion, a memory, scratching at a theory, flying off to an archived email or a photo file.
No. You’re right. It wasn’t funny. It was my turn to stare at that same sad cheesecake mess, longing for a reason, a moment of peace.
A month went by like that. Heartbreak? Sure, maybe, some, but more a matter of trying to piece together a puzzle, unlock the chemical mix in some witches brew, somehow break the spell. Finally, I decided on a little snoop work.
Mind blowing what you can find on the web. Turns out she’d never lied to me. She was who she said she was down to the last detail. The only surprising clue I’d dug up was the chance I’d known her in the past, or known of her.
Still, so what? What was I really after? Maybe just an explanation. Maybe I wanted to know how such exquisite magic could so suddenly swing back down to the bottom, the very bottom of the wheel.
Manipura. Yes. That spinning, propulsionary state in which a vertical, up and down tug of war controls the action. That was the answer. Hell, it even explained her addiction to ISS feeds, her fascination with space, and especially her devotion to watching every broadcast of every NASA and ESA launch possible.
Mike, Liz, Jones, everybody told me to let it go. I had, kinda. I’d accepted that we were estranged. Nobody’s fault. No going back. But why?
No point in trying to contact her. If she’d blocked me on Ello she’d blocked me on email as well. Google+? Instagram? Twitter? Nah. Besides, straight up honesty wasn’t her style. But maybe, just maybe—my primal voyeur mode kicking in—she’d confessed the truth to someone else. Someone on Ello.