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To Open the Door or Not?

Updated on August 26, 2016

There are two roads that connect the town I live to the town I work. The first is your basic two lane highway system, houses dispersed every few miles with a range of business, farms and fields thrown in for good measure. Traffic is constantly moving on this road, well at least as much traffic as two towns with a population totaling 6,000 people can have. This is the main road, average, uneventful, safe. A road where you can drive without ever actually seeing anything, just a mindless, thoughtless chore one has to do in order to reach a given point.

The other road is the back way into the towns, even though there is no real back way into a town it’s just a thing people say to note that this road is less traveled than the safe two-laned highway. Back in the Depression Era, the road wound its’ way between the two towns to what is called a “Poor Farm”, or a place where out of work men could do farm work in exchange for a hot meal and a bed. The Poor Farm Road has always been a place travelled by kids trying to speed, young lovers trying to make out, or old farmers driving tractors. Poor Farm is not or the Sunday driver, there are no guard rails to protect from the deep ditches or ravines that border the road. The only speed bumps are the decades old pot holes which one needs a photographic memory to recall which are fine to hit and which will leave you with a blown tire. Poor Farm is dangerous and exciting and one needs to always be on the lookout and be attentive in order to travel without crashing. It is not a mindless Sunday drive, you always have to give it your full attention you can’t nap your way through it. This is how I describe my relationship with Jess, she is Poor Farm Road.

Jess is a floater, she is the type of person who you don’t hear from for 6 months and then she shows up to your door at 3 AM wanting to lay in your bed and talk about her new philosophy on life, the universe, and everything. She floats in an out of my life like a leaf in the wind, sometimes she comes back and sometimes she leaves (no pun intended). She makes it hard to say no, because talks with her are enlightening and eye opening. They are the types of talks that make one realize truths about themselves.

Jess and I both don’t do small talk, we both dislike crowds, there seems to be a reason neither of us open up to other people. We find solace in knowing that we won’t judge each other’s opinions or feel like we are dirty or wrong for some of the shit we have done. While we talk we hold hands or she casually lays her leg over mine, this isn’t flirting or anything sexual, it’s just two people needing the touch of another human. She constantly tells me that when two people touch it makes the connection between them stronger, I’m not sure if this is real science but I go with it. I know that if she says it then she believes it’s true because that is how Jess is, she wouldn’t say something that she didn’t believe and she wouldn’t say something unless she felt that it was important.

Which is why after 6 months of no contact, I open the door at 3 AM. She never asks me about my shitty job or how my day was. I don’t want to know about her family or how she’s doing in school. We talk about the way society influences each and every aspect of our day to day life and how it would be so much better if people just thought for themselves for a change. We ask each other about our last relationships and if they helped us to grow or challenged our way of thinking. She asks me if I were to die tomorrow what song would I want at my funeral. I ask her how she got the scar on her leg shaped a little like Texas, which I have never noticed before. It seems like she had only been in my bed for minutes but the Sun is now up and we have moved on to arguing about God, which is followed by a lengthy rant by her on why the institution of marriage and monogamy is unneeded in today’s world.

An old vaudeville joke goes like this: A man asks “Knock, Knock” and while the other man says “who’s there” he is interrupted by the first man screaming “TIMING!”. We actually used to be an item, Jess and I, never really seemed to fit though. The timing was off and we found that we got along much better as 3 AM wake up calls. I’m sure there is a word in the dictionary for what we are, but I haven’t found one yet. I’m not even sure if we would be labeled as friends, maybe its better that we don’t have a label it makes it easier to be able to drop out of each others’ lives for awhile and pop back in when needed. Like I said, Floaters, people who live on the breeze and go where they want when they want. Floating in the wake of knowledge that it’s alright to wake up not 100% sure where you are going in this world but maybe that you would like to at least have a discussion about it and see where it goes. I think that above everything else is why when there is a knock at 3 AM, I open the door.


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