Life, Love & Lemons…Episode 5

The deep crimson painted accent wall in Brian’s Chicago dining room has the ability to hold cheer and reflect joy when the surrounding atmosphere so emits.

It also possesses the contrasting capacity to embrace the cool, sullen and heavy tones of gloomy emotion when present.

Saturday night was a lively and flair-spiked evening spent sitting around the dining room table with the very friends Brian left some 6 months ago when he moved here.

A young, ambitious, life-sucking collection of wonderful souls whom Brian has kept tucked in his heart since moving.

Writers, musicians, painters – artisans of all type who have welcomed me with open arms into their transcended clique and without one hint of awkward resentment considering I was the one who took their beloved friend from their circle nearly half a year ago.

I listened to the stories of the all-night fests they experienced during the preparation for Brian’s final show in Chicago some 11 months ago (stories that included the famed ‘13^th ninja’ tale during which Brian, who did not realize he was being video recorded in his 3am stupor of fatigue, regaled the bunch in a lofty, hilarious and fictional yarn about how he managed to successfully stave off 12 ninjas who attacked him one night, only to fall prey to the 13^th – who happened to be a midget – as an account for how he received that rather sexy scar on his forehead).

I watched the deep emotion and admiration in their eyes as they looked at Brian – as if scared to be awoken from the blissful dream of their comrade sitting in his usual seat, holding court at the head of the table, like he always used to.

We laughed until we cried.

We cuddled with the feelings of love, respect and family that danced in the air.

And the crimson wall stood guard.

Entrapping every giggle, embracing every ounce of tenderness we emoted; gently but surely projecting it back towards us….

…. But yesterday morning the laughing had stopped.

The wide smiles, glowing eyes and palpable positivity had been replaced by a harsh sense of empty.

Brian and I sat alone.

Speaking in whispers, looking downward so as to not spark any tears.

It was time to say goodbye again.

But phase 2 of this ordeal will prove to be the real saga.

I don’t know when or if, I’ll be able to visit Brian in Chicago again.

I don’t know when he’ll be coming home.

And thus, the true ‘not-knowing’ portion of this venture has officially begun.

I’ll keep with me the feeling of lying beside him in bed two nights ago.

I’ll silently cherish the depth of familiar serenity of waking up to his gentle caress and brilliant eyes yesterday morning.

And I’ll wait with wrenching patience until I can experience it again……

Stay Sexy,

C2