Dissonance

I woke from an insane dream.

I was in a foreign city – not one that I recognized but it had elements of Prague, Montreal and Venice. There were stately old buildings with ornate architectural flourishes everywhere.

I had to go to one of these to find an old chum, someone I’ve not seen in a decade or more. The place most closely resembled the Boston Design Center which is 1.4 million square feet in size. You may wonder DAY-um, how big is 1.4 million square feet? I can’t wrap my mind around that. Yeah, me neither.

It's the approximate equivalent of just under 30 football fields (each field being 320 feet long, counting end zones, and 160 feet wide). Yeah, the joint’s huge and I had no clue where, in this endless seeming building, Tom could be found. Somehow, I discovered that he was on the sixth floor.

Confounding my hunt further, the sixth, front to back, all 30 fields worth of space, was laid out in tight, jam-packed cubicle farm style but without the “privacy” walls. A giant hive, is what this was. Given that crowds and enclosed spaces really ratchet up my tension levels, I was in hell. I needed to find Tom and fast. I needed an anchor in this sea of besuited humanity.

Lucky me, I found a few information desks. I asked each of the nice ladies if they could help me find my friend. “What’s his name,” they all asked.

At first, I couldn’t remember. Who AM I looking for? I replied, to each and every person who asked, Robert Grant. I was looking for Robert Grant. The Amazing Bob.

Today is the 42nd day that TAB’s been gone. I’m no longer shocked when, in the morning, I roll over in bed and find that he’s not there. There aren’t any boxes of cookies in our cupboards. He’s not sitting behind me right now, watching the morning news. His bottle of caffeine free diet Coke is still, half empty, sitting on the top shelf of the fridge.

Jarring to say the least.

Yesterday, Jen, Oni and I escaped the insane heat by catching a matinee of Suicide Squad. I was counting on wacky action and dialogue (check) but also got the crafty, wickedly smart, intimidating, very dangerous Amanda Waller (played by the fab Viola Davis) and the funny, cracked-like-Deadpool, fluorescent Harley Quinn (played by Margot Robbie).

Big fun, eh? As we left the chill, dark theater, arriving back in the blisteringly hot, too bright day, I remembered. TAB’s not home. He wouldn’t be there to patiently listen to my theatrical retelling of a movie that he wouldn’t, in a zillion years, want to see. He wouldn't be there to tell me how his beloved Sox destroyed the Diamondbacks.

And he wasn’t.

Excruciating. Discordant. Burning. I feel broken without him.

And, for some reason, this song is now in my head.