Clare: It’s hard being left behind. I wait for Henry,not knowing where he is, wondering if he’s okay. It’s hard to be the one who stays.
I keep myself busy. Time goes faster that way.
I go to sleep alone, and wake up alone. I take walks. I work until I’m tired. I watch the wind play with the trash that’s been under the snow all winter. Everything seems simple until you think about it. Why is love intensified by absence?
Long ago, men went to sea, and women waited for them, standing on the edge of the water, scanning the horizon for the tiny ship. Now I wait for Henry. He vanishes unwillingly, without warning. I wait for him. Each moment that I wait feels like a year, an eternity. Each moment is as slow and transparent as glass. Through each moment I can see infinite moments lined up, waiting. Why has he gone where I cannot follow?
Whatever happened to dialing a number and actually getting the chance to talk to a real person? I had one simple question and I had press 1 then press 4 then get transferred to another number and press 1 again before I could talk to a real person. Even then the connection got all crackly and when I asked another very simple question I was put on hold. All I asked for was the cross streets to the place I was calling, and the lady put me on hold for that! Sheesh.
It looked shady and a little run down for Scottsdale. Maybe it was just an old building. Most of the offices looked empty. I found suite 340 and it wasn’t what I expected. There wasn’t the high tech front desk or receptionist with a head set, or big conference rooms or professionally dressed employees. There were two chairs next to the front door designated as the “waiting room”. Desks with computers were scattered with a few women working and talking on the phones dressed in jeans and sweaters, like college kids cramming for their exams. And the whole place smelled like a fruit cup. The interview room was warm due to a broken A/C. There were long desks in the shape or a horse shoe where two other girls sat filling out a form and a desk in the front that was clearly from Ikea. The interviewer seemed nervous. She said ‘um’ a lot, kept getting stuck on words, and went off on a lot of tangents. At one point I thought "What is she talking about?" But she was nice and figured she probably wasn’t used to doing the interviewing alone since she mentioned an Alex was going to take over but never did. It wasn’t the kind of place or kind of interview I expected but I guess we’ll see what happens.