Out of Sync

Dearest Rachel –

It’s probably not advisable for me to be writing to you like this at three or four in the morning; it certainly would have been pointless to talk to you like this back in the days when you were alive, as you would have just gotten to bed and fallen asleep, most likely. And even now, it’s not as if I can bring myself to actually talk, even though dictating this to Siri would be a much faster means of getting all this transcribed. There’s something about the silent dark that I don’t dare break, despite the fact that there’s no one to care if I do so.

It doesn’t help that my mind is still somewhat aswirl with fringes of last night’s dreams, which had me coming up with extraordinary projects that would have been pointless to execute. Stuff like using A.I. to redo the Beatles’ movie Yellow Submarine, but replacing every pixel with a different character in the UTC alphabetical code, depending on the pixel’s color. The characters would still be the same color (or would that be ‘colour,’ given that they’re British?); they’d just be a character, rather than a single dot. Granted, the UTC library is pretty vast, encompassing most of the different alphabets throughout the world so they can be replicated on a computer, but I don’t think there are quite enough characters to represent all sixteen and a half million colors of the electronic spectrum, such as it exists? Moreover, the movie is trippy enough as it is; why go through all the trouble and effort to make it that much more so when, at that level, no one is likely to notice or watch? Talk about a real “nowhere plan.”

But I seem to be awake at this hour, with little more to do but record these thoughts for your consumption, so I might as well, regardless of how weird or nonsensical they might be. It might amuse you, at the very least.

Nowhere is this more obvious, as far as I can tell, than my current interactions (and therefore my relationship, such as it is) with “Lee.” Up until recently, I’ve been faithfully texting her every morning, giving her some encouragement each day as she prepares for work, with only the rare occasional missed day when she reaches out to me about it. However, these last couple of days have seen me dealing with my apparent foot injury, to the complete neglect of contacting her.

Now, you’ve seen me expressing my doubts as to whether this relationship could actually work, given the physical distance between us, and how that makes getting together difficult. It’s not helped by the fact that, while her late husband was apparently religious, she is not so much (despite having listed ‘Christian’ on her dating profile). Nor is the idea that, having met her son (and seeing Daniel’s reaction to our meeting, although I’m not sure if his own reticence is due to her, to him, or the situation in general; he’s suddenly expressed an aversion to the idea of my dating at all at this point, which seems an excessive demand to make of me), I have to consider the idea of two such boys in a blended family. Would that even work, or would that multiply the challenge of raising either of them, as opposed to simply adding the two of them?

Nevertheless, given her circumstances of a new job, as seen through the prism of one who basically hated his job for the last decade of it, I feel the need to maintain this stream of encouragement for her sake, regardless of whether I think the two of us will actually work out. Having to keep going to work, especially to support someone else like this – despite the fact that it’s life for most of us, is an oppressive responsibility, and everyone going through it needs whatever support they can get, and for now, I feel that I ought to continue doing so for her, whether or not I think the two of us could or should be an item.

But over this past week, and having missed several days in a row of contacting her, there’s been silence on either end. Even as I’ve sent nothing to her until yesterday morning, there’s been nothing from her in turn, as if she’s not been curious about the lack of communication coming from me. In any event, that’s what I was thinking of telling you about this morning (my weird dream notwithstanding).

Except… she did respond to my last text, just not until after I lost consciousness for the night (and granted, that’s was pretty early in the evening, to be honest; the sun had barely gone down when I found myself nodding off. To be sure, when the boys are hanging out in the family room, and I’m on my own in the bedroom, there’s not much for me to do but watch videos until I fall asleep; that it happens at an irregular time of day is irrelevant). Nothing particularly special about it; just a cheery acknowledgment of my affirmation to her, and an inquiry into how my day was looking, but a response all the same. Suddenly, my observation that this was starting to fall apart didn’t hold as much water; the entire premise of what I was going to say to you about this had gone by the boards.

At the same time, it’s clear that the two of us are way out of sync – which is mostly my fault, thanks to my falling asleep when I did – and it’s up to me to get back to her about that. At the same time, there are all these questions I have about whether I even want to do any of that, given the doubts I’ve already expressed to you about all this. For the moment, I’m talking to you to avoid considering what – and whether, even – I ought to be saying to her.

Although, I suppose that, if I do respond to her, I can and should wait for a more respectable hour of the day. There’s no sense in waking her (or, for that matter, any of those who might be reading over your shoulder) with a message of any sort at four or so in the morning. Best to leave this here until it’s a bit more light, and we’re all a bit more in sync, eh?

Until then (and even after that, if you don’t mind), I’d appreciate it if you’d keep an eye on me, and wish me luck. I’m going to need it.