It feels peculiar to rise hours before the sun. To begin a day when the remains of the night cloak the scenery and the new day is on the cusp of the lighted hours. Time, however, is a fickle ruler. Steadfast in its tick, tick, ticking. Shouldn't the day truly begin with the new sunrise? Why adhere to the resolution of stiff numbers held forever accountable to the notation of a day's passing when the hour isn't portrayed through truths visible to the eye?
There is something about this time of day, 4:00 AM in particular, on a crisp autumn morning, that encourages somewhat stagnant traits of my personality to surface:
Resentment. After only a slim few hours of dreaming, leaving behind my slumbering gentleman and pup in a warm, dark bedroom in his Pa's house by the sea, to return to a dusty, heaving city. Headlights of my thawing car beaming a path otherwise too dark for telling---so much so that deer may only be noticed when their eyes are set in a bright glow as they capture and hold still a gaze dead set on my car. They are still perhaps in wonderment as to why you are awake during their designated wandering time.
Impatient. My usual calm acceleration quickens pace, striving toward a couple of more hours of sleep before work.
Singer. Acceptance of musical offerings at this hour, I sing a duet with Bonnie Raitt. Yes, her. Stave off quiet with my scratchy, almost husky morning voice.
Hopeful. Wet my eyes with slight tears of joy when the song I aim to cherish on our wedding day, unbeknownst to The Bartender, croons, conjuring in mind a dance shared after our nuptials.
Focus. A mind usually tender and foggy before a cup of coffee is somehow more focused on true goals of my heart. So easily. All seems obtainable when the road is dim and stretching forth for miles into a vacant slate of morning.
Perhaps I am overly pensive on this particular morning because I am leaving a bit more behind than simply a resting lot of those loved.
I am driving farther from a new beginning.
And, after I find my way home, sleep through the sunrise then resume a usual work week, I can't help but feel that I'm moving backwards.
You see, we've gone and done it.
The bartender and I went and bought a bar. Somehow I have...
discovered my supporting role in this amazing endeavor.
I am numb.
Scared out of my wits by this...
BAR. And, as I while away the week in my usual way, I am miles away from him,
and my new sense of self. It's perplexing. Annoying. Heart-wrenching. And, so much more. We know not of how to adjust.
Somehow, we just...DO, without pondering too much.
Coat-by-coat we're adding touches of a new identity to this room we're well too familiar with.
We plan. We hope. We care. We worry.
I promise to share. Everything.
I do hope you'll come along.
And, maybe when all is just so,
you may visit.
Until then, my words and photos will lead the way.
Welcome, my friends, to the next phase.
Welcome to The Bitter End Lounge.