082 - Eighty-Two

[TRANSCRIPT]

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(sigh) Alright, you sent me a message last night that just said “Santa Fe”. That’s fucking…

Well, I assume it means you want me to go to Santa Fe. Well, I am. I’m already here, actually. And not because of your message but because I was close and it’s November and I’d honestly rather be in New Mexico than Colorado, so. 

I’m not even really a hot weather person, to be honest. I wasn’t raised in a hot climate, I’m not built for it. But the dryer and the warmer the weather, the easier the driving is. To a point, anyway. Too hot and driving becomes a misery. 

(groaning) Ugh…I don’t know, Birdie, I’m—when I’ve talked to you lately, I feel like I can hear myself better. Like the words I’m saying are really landing in my ears and it’s all so….

I can feel myself being sanded away at the edges. Becoming less interesting, less engaged. Becoming a shell. 

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That was always my greatest fear with staying. That we’d become husks, living simply to stay alive and for nothing else. Harry seemed content to garden and cook and read and paint and I…

I just wanted to live, you know? Really live. Harry says that I’m just an adrenaline junkie who hasn’t done anything risky or stupid for years and I should just go jump in the lake in the middle of January because “what could be more adrenaline inducing than freezing to death?” but I think she’s wrong.  
It’s not…danger that I miss. Sure, my job had risks to it, but I was careful. I didn’t want to get caught. I didn’t get any thrill from the chase. I was never chased, actually, outside that one time and look at how that turned out. 

I liked the unpredictability. Every job had new challenges and sure, new risks, but no one day was ever the same. 

That’s what I miss. And lately, I can feel my days becoming the same, even if I’m in a different place. What happened in Estes Park wasn’t…good or fun but at least it was something different. And now I’m just right back where I was months ago, which is listening to someone else, following the directions of someone I’ve been forced to trust because of circumstance and it’s putting two things into clear focus: 

I don’t want to passively live my life by someone else’s rules—not yours, not Harry’s. 

And I don’t trust you. 

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