The Muse (Continued)

You Were Saying?

Ok, so I might have been a bit premature saying that my obsession for my muse has been cooling. There’s been a development in recent weeks that has kinda changed the whole equation. In fact, I’m probably more obsessed than ever. But this time I’m fairly certain that the feeling is mutual. But what does it matter? Mutual or not, my circumstances haven’t changed. I still live in Turkey and she still lives in Canada. I’m still caught in a loveless marriage and she’s still free to fall in love with whatever available guy wanders along. This is the reality of our virtual relationship.

What is Real?

My relationship with my muse sometimes  feels more real than real itself. But how can I say that? What a preposterous notion! And yet, oddly enough, true. Those hour spent chatting with – let’s call her “M” for muse – has become my life’s organizing principle. Very early on we had established a rhythm based on our time zones. I knew when she woke up (early!) She knew my bedtime. We were like ships passing in the night. But every night. The same ships. The first thing I do upon awakening is check my phone, because we often leave messages, photos and memes for each other during our consecutive nights,  (consecutive since mine starts 7 hours earlier than hers.) Then it’s textpectation for me until around noon to 1 PM when she gets up, (that’s  5 0r 6 AM, her time.)  Didn’t I say that she was an early riser? Haha. After that, we’re pretty well in communication for most of the day, except when her work meetings take her away from me. God I resent those meetings. Ha! And unfortunately, she doesn’t get off until 2am my time so I’m usually in bed by the time she’s free.

We’re Only Working for the Weekend

Ah, but when the weekend comes, then we can play!  And we do, often spending half the day chatting back and forth. Consequently, my phone has become my most important possession, which I check repeatedly for updates or answers to questions posed in my previous messages. It is usually within reach and rarely out of my view. I cling to it like a drowning man will clutch a tree branch floating by in a torrent. Despite the fact that we’ve never met except for once when she was 9, wheeling her bike into the garage while I said goodbye to her older sister; despite all the impediments to our ever having a real physical relationship; despite my son’s admonishment that our feelings for each other can’t be real, our relationship is as real to me as a block of marble. It may be just a meeting of minds, sapiosexual attraction, but it is the most satisfying aspect of my personal life these days.

Michael Wray

Hi, My name's Michael. I'm a writer/illustrator working as a primary ESL teacher in Istanbul. I love art, music, literature, and traveling.

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