Waking to the Tractor

Fifth Avenue TractorWhen you finally woke up, you insisted that your name was Edward and that you needed us to help you find your tractor.  You now had a thorough and accurate knowledge of the histories of Paraguay and Estonia that was completely accurate.  You were no longer an alcoholic.  You hadn’t just stopped drinking, you also had no desire to drink.  You had a charm and wit that we had never seen.  We chose not to tell you who you had been before.  The night before your awakening I dreamed that our life together was forever trapped on an old Beta video cassette — there but impossible to revisit without technical intervention.  I felt like a banned plastic bag next to you with your sudden rebirth of charm, and I feared asking how you made your transformation since the question might trigger that old self that had caused so much pain might return.  I could love this new person who seemed to have only a modest interest in me, and I was already falling into my old pattern of accommodation as I helped you search for your tractor and the hopeless belief that by finding it you might finally respect me.

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