Amy and I decided to head up to Sedona. I had been up there a few weeks ago to ride my bike with a large group of mountain bikers. She had been there many months ago when she decided it was time to end her marriage and continue on her journey. When I was up there a few weeks ago, I was completely scatterbrained and unable to focus on the ride. I cut it short for myself and headed back to the car. Wasn't sure what was going on, I just couldn't tune in. So much going on in my mind that day. The night before I had more or less made nice with D and she was clearly okay with letting me know she was still around. Good for her. (By the way D...your prince is still out there. Keep looking and don't give up on the dream. He will appear, but you have to keep summoning him...) But nothing could get Amy out of my head, as usual. And now that she was back in my life and we had begun to slowly to rekindle what was once there, the tunnel-vision again started to set in and I began to understand why I was so scatterbrained. Forget dark angel, light angel, bar angel, and all the rest. Why bother? I knew where I needed to be, and if anyone tries to gets in the way, all they will hear about is how awesome I have it and how they can't compare. Yeah, the bar is set high for me, and now it's carried by a true angel, well beyond what mere mortals can touch. A few came close, and one in particular gets honorable mention, (thanks for the perspective, MG) but the standard was set 15 years ago and as much as one would like to believe that there are many soul mates, which I don't disagree with, I know where my heart lies. She is simply my angel. No descriptors needed, just my angel.
We left late Saturday morning after she dropped off the kids and headed north. There are a few elements needed for the perfect road trip:
-Tunes. No shortage there. iTunes + Genius+ late nights catching up = recurring line item on my monthly budget now.
-Vague destination with accommodations booked in the general area. "Sedona" worked this time, but allowed for exploration of places like Arcosanti along the way, and for bar-hopping in Flag that night.
-Booze. You know, fer drinkin and drivin.
-Time. Can't be on a tight schedule. I struggle with this because I tend to pack in all kinds of plans beforehand because I can't seem to shut my brain off when it comes to planning these things...
-Experiences. Ah yes, the experiences. Ne plus ultra, experience is the reason for being on the road in the first place.
We started with a visit to the church on the rock and got some great pictures. Such a peaceful place and such a view, and such a simple and elegagantly designed building:
Amy and I sat there for awhile, just contemplating things, enjoying the moment. I managed to catch this one:
Of course we couldn't leave without leaving a donation.
Thank you, come again:
We then headed out of the church and up the Chapel trail to chicken point to catch the views from up there as the sun was setting and the colors were becoming more fierce:
After the hike we headed back toward Sedona and ended up at Oak Creek Brewery, enjoying a fine steak and a really good amber. Oak Creek was one of the places in Sedona Amy went to contemplate the end of her marriage a few months prior. There we sat on the upper-level patio, waiting for a table, hand in hand and eye to eye, trying to not get any ashes on the people passing by below when Amy tells me that was the spot she was at when she made her decision to leave. Oh sweet irony, because that was the night that it hit me that I was really still in love with her. Again. (For the first time, for the last time...) It was still early in the renewed relationship though and we still had a lot of settling in to do together, but I didn't care. Everyone was telling me to take it slow. But I knew what I felt, I knew how there was NO ONE that ever made me feel even remotely close to how she makes me feel, and damn it I'm old enough to know what I'm doing. We were in love once before and though circumstances didn't permit it at the time, those feelings never went away and spanned 15 years. That definately counts for something more.
After Oak Creek we went up to Flag and checked in to our fabulous 2-star hotel. A couple hours later (we needed some "rest") we headed to Flagstaff Brewing company and proceeded to close down the bar. Nothing like a brewery in a college town on a Saturday night. During the course of that evening, we found Waldo, a gay lumberjack, named our band "Small Town Gay", and watched some white people dance. It was a hoot. And that was before we started playing the "what's their story" game.
"What's their story" is easy in concept, but hard to pull off because you have to find a neutral third party to confirm/deny the story. The game basically goes like this: You pick out a person or a group of persons at a bar, then each player takes turns "telling their story". The person closest to the truth wins. We lucked out, and let the bartender (Booty the cutie) in on our little game, and he refereed. Amy kicked my ass. She called it 9 times out of ten, on the items Booty could verify for us. First dates, soul mates, room mates...she had em figured out just by looking at them. I got a few...daddy issues, anger issues, armpit hair, jealous girlfriend, eternal student...but Amy's got this game nailed.
Drunk as skunks, we wandered out of the bar and sat down on a planter outside, and that's when the honesty came out. Honesty as in, we professed our love for each other, and confirmed that it never died...years and distance and marriages and children aside, we still had a place in our hearts for each other that never died. It also dawned on us, that over the last 3-4 years, we had been summoning each other. Our sorrows and needs, joys and gifts, and subsequent actions were identical over the last 15 years. We both married someone else in order to forget each other. We both gave it the college try. We struggled to keep our marriages together, despite of our ex-spouses indifference. We initiated the counciling. We went in for the therapy. We tried to get our exes to give a shit, to live up to what they promised when we married them. To just pretend that we mattered to them, that we were respected or valued. But to our eventual dismay, they just didn't have it in them, and likely never did. We were simply an accessory to their life, the sperm donor or the uterus provider. And when confronted with this, they both reacted the same...too bad, sorry you feel that way, get over it, because they weren't changing. We married on the assumption that we would evolve into each other, that through osmosis we would absorb and become the best that we saw in each other. Never happened, and so lesson learned. Opposites may attract, but eventually they rub each other raw. And the one capable of feeling the friction pays the price. So we left.
On the topic of opposites attracting, I have one thing to say to the proponents of this notion and that it can be the basis of a long-lasting, happy relationship. Fuck you. Fuck you with a big, sharp, pointy stick. That is a baby-boomer notion, one used to soothe and comfort those that got stuck in such a relationship and couldn't get out. So let's make it funny, ha ha, mommy and daddy hate each other, that's so funny. Lucy and Ricky. Ray Romano's parents. Ha ha, so funny, look at all the fucked up kids that produced. Ha ha, so funny. Fuck that.
The next morning, we woke up (around noon) and headed down to Sedona again, after a quick stop at Denny's for breakfast burritos. Sobriety that morning did not dull the feelings we expressed for each other the previous night, in fact, it only enhanced them. Almost 2 months later here I am finishing this blog entry and I can confirm it's for real. Now that our kids have met and we have spent nearly every waking minute together, it's only getting better. Daily. Anyhow, so we headed back down to Sedona to do some souvenier shopping and found Alex Ogburn. Alex is a local musician with pipes like Sting and the look of a conservative Dave Navarro. We sat on the balcony overlooking the courtyard where he was playing and soon noticed that he kept looking over at us. As we started listening to his lyrics (original songs, by the way) we realized they were written for us. Love songs about loss and rediscovery, sad previous relationships, and love and adoration for the love of your life. We are looking forward to his CD and future engagements. He plays a lot of weddings, apparantly.
That afternoon we headed home, sad that our trip was over but happy for having had the chance to have the weekend together. Real life soon set back in, except it was different now. We knew at that point that we would be together, going forward. And suddenly, the drudgery and mundane tasks that made up our lives took on new meaning. We were going to build our lives around each other. The possibilities suddenly became endless, yet within reach.
And the best Road Trip yet begins...
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