the mercy seat.

long swims, bits from a letter that never got sent.

I can remember this time, right? It was the summer before I left. You, me, Charlotte and Josh Duncan went to this house out in the middle of nowhere. We had alcohol, I’m sure of it, but not much, maybe just a few sneaky cans of Pabst or whatever we had resigned ourselves to; we weren’t looking for Booze & Drinking, though, it was just the parsley sprig on the plate, I guess…..

 It was still warm at night, even. These days, I can hardly imagine what that would be like. The weather here isn’t bad, it’s hostile, like people aren’t supposed to be here and live like this and the Earth is punishing you for defying it. 

 But anyhow,  we arrived at the house, which was so-and-so’s family estate. They had a smaller, but not inconsiderably sized, artificial lake in the yard. The whole place just felt comfortable, like you didn’t have to worry about being young and free, like so many places in that county feel. It didn’t feel restrictive. I think a lot of places, perhaps a lot of smaller places, do, because their ways of life have grown to be so run of the mill, like “you’re 18, go to college. You’re, 21, go drink. You’re 25, time to get married and work for *insert the name of some company*, marry, become bitter…..

 We all just stripped down to our bathing suits or whatever passed as such. Charlotte laughed at me when I had water shoes on; but it wasn’t condemnation, it was companionship, because she’s as weird with her feet underwater as I am. I was glad to know someone else felt that way. We played some game where you got on my shoulders, and we squared off with another pair like this, trying to dunk the head of the person holding them up until the other person fell off. It was hysterical. It amazes me how much just having people to play with, friends, can ease any kind of pain. Most people just go to bars now, and I guess I do, too. The living end is never that far away, I guess.

We just floated in the water for a while afterwards, looking at the looming August moon, and then drank on the porch. We left soon after.

Maybe it’s just nostalgia, but that feels like the last time my life was simple and fun. I had a similar event stand out in my head, for no apparent reason, when I was much younger. It kind of marked the end of an era for me. I’m hoping that wasn’t another.

I miss you, more than you could possibly know.