Slow Dancing

The end of the weekend has come and I’m feeling sated. I achieved both of my goals by keeping the one key understanding I have about Carlos at the front of my mind. There’s a new mood hanging in the air between us (like the smoke from a clove cigarette) as I write and he makes his dinner. We both know I’m leaving in the morning and I’m well aware that I’ve had enough, even though he probably thinks I’ll want to come back (yet again) at some point in the future. The only way I can describe it is when you reach a point in a relationship when you know it’s over…and there’s nothing left to say. It’s much like John Mayer’s song “Slow Dancing In A Burning Room” (seeing John Mayer at Jazzfest was a very good thing), but I think the entire house burned down a long time ago. It’s more like we’re slow dancing on the smoldering ruins of the foundation of a house that should’ve never been built in the first place. But it’s good because I feel no need to ever see him again. All of my questions about our relationship have been answered and I’m guessing this is what closure feels like.