R.M. Dolin, February 5, 2024
I have to see you, hold your tender hands, look deeply into your soft eyes that cannot lie, to know it’s really over. If not now, then when I’m in Paris for the Roubaix Challenge, which is currently in jeopardy. I was hit by a car on my bike while training. As paramedics itemized the damage while hooking up a fentanyl IV and cutting away layers of clothes, I started to cry. It’s undignified I know, not something cowboys are supposed to do. It wasn’t because of immense pain or the loss of my bike, in my manic moment I knew if my bike is broke and body busted, I can’t come to France for the race, which means I won’t have an excuse to see you, and that matters most. It was a watershed moment, overwhelming in the profound understanding of just how much you matter.
Background poem for the novel, “The Dangling Conversation.” Kyle needs proof Nadia no longer loves him, as he tells her of his other drama.
