So Here's What Happened...

Miller: The Conclusion

It was painfully awkward. He barely spoke. He barely looked at me. It was clear that he was not thrilled about me being there. I know I am not imagining things when I tell you that he went out of his way NOT to acknowledge me.

At one point during the evening, we found ourselves alone in the game room. I had popped in there to get juice boxes for the kids. He was there to grab a beer. I'm assuming the alcohol made it easier to deal with seeing me. Here's what happened:

Miller: "Oh. You're here," he said, turning away to leave.
Me: "Hey! Don't leave. What do you need? Beer?"
Miller: "Yeah."
Me: "Got it," handing him the beer.
Miller: "Thanks...uh...thanks."
Me: "Hey, it's really good to see you."
Miller: "Yeah."
Me: (this is where I start rambling because I hate awkward silences) "So, your kids are adorable...that youngest one looks exactly like you...and you look great, too. You really haven't aged a bit."
Miller: "And...that's good?"
Me: "Of course that's good! Who wants to age?"
Miller: "Yeah. You look...you look...well, you look..........................."

And I never got to hear what I looked like because at that point he shook his head and walked out. I followed him saying, "What's wrong with you?" But he never turned around. He just kept walking away while shaking his head.

Do I look like poo? An extraterrestrial? A supermodel? A prostitute? A butcher, a baker, a candlestick maker? A fair worker? A PTO mom? A Jehovah's witness? WHAT the hell do I look like? I'll never know because the MORON walked off without completing his sentence. I hate fragments. Fragments are rude.

And that's that.

Weirdness. Awkwardness. Boo hiss.

This is the same man who once drove 9 hours because I was sad. And now he can't look at me, talk to me...hell, even complete a sentence about me. What the hell happened?

And, because I suppose it's fitting for this post, I may as well tell you that the alias Annabelly came from him. "Annabel Lee" is my favorite poem. Ever. It was one of his favorites, too. He used to call, and when I'd answer he'd say the first line, "It was many and many a year ago..." I would reply by saying the second line. We'd say the entire poem that way - a line at a time. Say Annabel Lee quickly. Sounds like Annabelly, right? At some point, we started referring it to it this way. And later he started referring to me that way. So, there you have it. I'm Annabelly.

Whatever,
Annabelly

Here's the poem. It really is excellent. It is still my favorite and my best.


Annabel Lee

It was many and many a year ago,
In a kingdom by the sea,
That a maiden there lived whom you may know
By the name of ANNABEL LEE;
And this maiden she lived with no other thought
Than to love and be loved by me.
I was a child and she was a child,
In this kingdom by the sea;
But we loved with a love that was more than love-
I and my Annabel Lee;
With a love that the winged seraphs of heaven
Coveted her and me.
And this was the reason that, long ago,
In this kingdom by the sea,
A wind blew out of a cloud, chilling
My beautiful Annabel Lee;
So that her highborn kinsman came
And bore her away from me,
To shut her up in a sepulchre
In this kingdom by the sea.
The angels, not half so happy in heaven,
Went envying her and me-
Yes!- that was the reason (as all men know,
In this kingdom by the sea)
That the wind came out of the cloud by night,
Chilling and killing my Annabel Lee.
But our love it was stronger by far than the love
Of those who were older than we-
Of many far wiser than we-
And neither the angels in heaven above,
Nor the demons down under the sea,
Can ever dissever my soul from the soul
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee.
For the moon never beams without bringing me dreams
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;
And the stars never rise but I feel the bright eyes
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;
And so, all the night-tide, I lie down by the side
Of my darling- my darling- my life and my bride,
In the sepulchre there by the sea,
In her tomb by the sounding sea.