Opening the Tomb

I haven't wanted to do anything today.  That's not true.  I wanted to eat.  I started with a loaf of delicious French bread drizzled in olive oil and sprinkled with salt.  I thought to have a little, but I couldn't quit.  I had some fruit, fixed some eggs.  Then I went back to the bread and took a few hits off last night's wine bottle.  It hasn't been enough.  

I was going to exercise.  It is pushup day.  How fucked up does that sound?  I got my mat ready, pulled out the weights for bent over rows. . . and that is as far as I got.  I didn't want to do pushups any more than I wanted to do them yesterday.  They are tortuous.  It is not like working out in the gym where you do ten reps, eight reps six reps.  Nope.  It is a long, slow torture, each one just a little scarier than the one before, over and over and over.  I got dressed and decided just to take a walk.  When I got to the door, I changed my mind.  I thought then that I would just do the pushups.  I took off my gym clothes and got back into my pajamas.  I made up my mind.  I would do nothing today but eat and drink.  

Maybe it is the weather, or maybe it has been a bad idea to go through the hard drives.  For the five years that Ili was here, they have sat dormant.  Some I hadn't looked at for a long time before that.  Each one is like opening a tomb.  There is the evidence of a past life lived.  There are pictures of old girlfriends and an ex-wife.  I remember the feelings, remember the times, and remember how each relationship ended.  Living in the past is no good, though, so I made the mistake of Googling. . . them.  Oh. . . they are all incredibly beautiful with spectacular lives.  Seriously.  None of them have done badly.  They all have lives to be envied.  

By me. 

They all loved me once.  I have the letters to prove it.  

There is no going back except in hard drives.  You don't want to do it.  You ever watched those old movies where someone raids and ancient tomb?  What happens to them?  That's right, there is always a curse that gets them.  Some jin or genie exacts revenge.  I understand that curse now.  You do not want to open the crypt.  You may find treasure, but they will never make you happy.  It is best to leave the past alone.  There is no future in the past.  

I don't want it anyway.  I just want to finish the book.  And I want to live in a romantic old movie back in the days when men were men and women were everything else.  I want to curl up on the big leather couch with a tray full of snacks, a bottle of wine, and my own true love.  

"Hey, doll, would pour me a little more wine?"

"Say, sure I would.  What do you take me for, anyway, some kind of dope?  It would be my pleasure.  That would be swell."  

Something like that.  I want the smell of estrogen again, and all the oils, lotions, potions, and unguents the shelves can handle.  

I used to be a hard guy, the kind who could take it, but I've been softened up, as the gangsters used to say.  I don't want to do pushups any more.  It isn't fun.