As much as I wanted him gone, I also wanted and expected his return. I waited in vain for two days, at which point I realized the futility of my current existence. That is when I gave up my life, my name, my ponderous love. I walked out into the world with no hope of an end, but opening my heart to the future, and to the answers. Dave was right, I did not need to eat. I thought back on my addiction to chocolate with a laugh. The idea of a block of sweets filling my belly almost made me sick. The work involved to digest such complexities of food was not worth it. I sipped at water from a fountain outside a strip plaza, but its bland reception was spit out. I seemed to lose the desire to even sleep. I sat on park benches, watching sweaty tourists go by. I walked along the interstate to the Courtney Campbell Causeway leading to Clearwater and the beach communities. Along this stretch of sand I watched revellers with their lit bonfires and packs of beer. These people held no interest for me, but I was fascinated by the smoke produced by their fire. It danced up into the hot humid evening sky. It fused with the orange glow of a sunset. It consumed the wood and cardboard of its offering and through the fire essence became invisible. What was once burning and whole became as nothing. Gone to the world. Matter disappeared, or evolved into a different vibration. I felt the same. I walked close to one of the fires and seemed to cause no amount of interest to the group enjoying it. I put my hand directly into the light and pulled it back charred black. It was strange that I felt no pain, but the reality of the act was proved by my burnt flesh. Oh well. I wiped my hands on my jeans and watched bits of my flesh tear loose and then flyaway with the breeze. I was not sad to be losing my body, only curious as to where it went.
I was appalled at the lack of control I had over my bodily functions at first. When Dave left I let out a loud long fart which turned out to be diarrhea. I spent the next hour or so on the toilet spewing forth used nutrients and rotten toxins. I shit a lot for the next couple of days until my body had nothing left to expel. I heaved and heaved the little contents of my stomach until the last bits of a nuclear yellow bile discharged. After I left my apartment, I wore the same clothes for three weeks, the time it took me to settle into my new non-life and to take up occupancy in this home, now mine. For three weeks I did not eat or sleep. I became entirely filthy and I did not even care. My hair was matting into lots of little knots. My odor announced my presence, but perhaps only to myself, for wherever I went I was not taken the slightest bit of notice. It seemed I had ceased to exist. I had to remind myself that I was still alive.
I went to the Tampa International Airport and passed through security without a hitch. I rode the passenger trolleys to and from the six airfields. I floor jumped the elevators to the roof. I sat and watched a young girl in her car, windows rolled down playing music loudly. She banged to the beat of the drums on her steering wheel. She got out of her car and sat on its’ hood with a notebook and began sketching. Picture after picture was torn up into pieces and left for the wind to carry. I felt a brush and wind bring a scrap my way. It was a bit of white paper crossed over with bold black marked lines. I looked up again to see the girl sitting on the pavement now in front of her front tire. She must be writing, I thought as I saw her hand go methodically back and forth. I felt a sort of pain and anguish emanating from the youth. It became clear to me that she was crying. She would pick up what appeared to be a photograph, look at it, kiss it, then put it down again. I shifted my gaze skyward to see and hear the planes take off and land. In this early evening, I was impressed once again of the prettiness of all the flashing lights of the city. The runway was marked and lit up by hundreds of little blue lights. Other areas were marked with red or green. The noise of a plane overhead filled me with a rush of pleasure and I opened to the void it allowed. All encompassing noise was a comfort to me. It cleared my own mind of its scattered thoughts. Blasting decibels of sound and then quiet. I definitely heard crying now. It was enough to be called sobbing. I looked toward the girl and she was applying bright red lipstick using the side view mirror. Now she was scribbling on the mirror with her lipstick wand. She crushed and let it fall to the ground. She left her notebook in the car, the windows, rolled down, the music still playing. She walked slowly to the stone wall surrounding the roof parking and peered down. She got up on her toes and looked way over so that I could no longer see her head. Another plane was passing overhead and I closed my eyes to enjoy its quick journey. Peace with the noise, definite peace. When I opened my eyes the girl was no longer standing along the ledge. Her car still played its’ music, but she was nowhere to be seen. I stayed a moment longer to take in the lights of cars backed up on the interstate. There must have been an accident. Sirens blaring, their whining horns filled the night air. I made the sign of the cross and walked onward.
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