My mind has been focused on serious packing strategy. What can I pack in my Suburban that super heavy to lighten the mover's weight? What items are too expensive to have movers touch and how am I going to pack them in the Suburban? In my mind I keep preserving the front seat for the cat carrier and litter box as I imagined packing all the items that should be in the Suburban. My plants weren't going to fit.
I'd already given Sergio all my plants in designer pots that I had stored at his house. Realizing my balcony garden wouldn't survive the winters in Sacramento, I thought of bringing it inside the condo for the winter, but that would be too hard. My plants love San Diego and belong here.
After a week of only texts from super sick surferdude, we finally talked. He had previously texted that he was sick, and he never gets sick. He really hates to text, and this behavior started right after his appointment with a cardiologist, so I was concerned. Fortunately, it ended up that he had a bad flu.
When he finally returned my missed call, instead of texting, he had a head cold and not a high fever any more. I was just relieved that he just caught the flu and wasn't on a respirator after a bad cardiac stress test. He wouldn't have told me if he was in the hospital, because he wouldn't want the attention.
He asked how my move was going and added like always, "You really have nothing holding you here."
He and I are very much alike, except I've finally let my heart open up to the possibility of building a life with someone again. He wants to stay a tumbleweed forever. He also knows that he has to say that to me to push me toward my new life. Our relationship has evolved to good friends anyway. He grew to like my Aspergers. I was one honest person in his life, and he was brutally honest right back. He'd also helped me understand the world of being famous, signing autographs, doing speaking engagements, and knowing the value of your name. He would also listen to how I was setting up my author business, since I'm an experienced entrepreneur. If he liked my ideas then he'd morph them into something for his surfing business.
After our usual conversation that we have while doing other things, I realized that surferdude loves plants like Sergio. He also has a Zen theme and my plants were, of course, exactly right for him, since we're too much alike. So today he picked them up, and I got to say "Good-bye" in person and give him a hug and kiss on the cheek.
He had never been to my apartment. In fact, no romantic interest ever was. It was my woman cave. He loved the acrylic paintings created by my friend and my daughter and the bronze eagle that I couldn't fit in a box. He also liked my compound bow, and I showed him how to set the shot. He explained how to kill a coyote with my graphite arrows and not get caught. I'd actually felt like killing a few coyotes after losing so many cherished cats to them.
As I gave him a tour I showed him my family's book about all our military men. "We're descendants of the best Hessians in Germany, so its in our blood. That's why I have a cross bow." I remembered when he showed me the magazine with his lineage of famous professional surfers, so I finally shared my pedigree.
"I'm surprised that you don't have a side arm."
"I don't do guns. I like silent weapons." I remembered when my mom made a point of telling me when I was little that she would never have guns in the house, because my brothers and sisters and I would kill each other. She was very wise. That's probably why I've never bothered with guns for self defense. God has also made it extremely clear to me that I am not to have blood on my hands. I'll leave that to the marines in our family. They keep our country safe and God keeps me especially safe.
Surferdude and I lugged all my plants down the elevator and out to the culdesac while gabbing like we would on the phone. He actually was getting the job in Las Vegas that paid really well, only was 4 days a week, and had serious perks like a company car and access to the company yachts. He'd been working on that deal for 1.5 years. I was so excited for him! We both got jobs at the same time. Go figure!
We pushed and shoved plants into his van. His van was full of my plants instead of all his surfboards. "You scored!"
"Yeah!" He appreciated that I had a lot of expensive specimens. I appreciated that my plants and pots would be loved. "Hey, I'm going to compete is Santa Cruz in May."
"Oh, that's pretty close. I'll see if I can roust some Sacramento fans to come with me. There will definitely be big waves there!"
"It's a really big competition. I don't usually go. If the weather is bad, I'm not driving up there. Oh, here's the last T-shirt from my last nose-riding competition. It's in your size."
"Thanks. Look at this handsome guy on the back! Nice!" It was a picture of him riding the nose of his surfboard with his six-pack showing.
We gave each other our final hugs and kisses on the cheek before he got back into his van. As he drove off he waved, "Thanks again for the plants!"
"Thanks for the T-shirt!"
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