/pt/ – Petrarchan

A long while ago, I moved to the mountains in Maine. The weather changing always reminds me of back then. Even though I moved there in the summer, it would still get this cold at night. I’d tired of my job and the city. The endless rat race. I’d been engaged for a couple years, but my fiancée and I had gradually lost interest in each other. She barely said goodbye when we called it quits, and frankly, I didn’t even care. So I used my savings to buy an old cabin up on the side of the mountain, near where my parents had brought me as a kid. A desolate but beautiful area. The nearest town was a forty-five minute drive. No cell service, no internet service, only a landline in case of emergencies. I told myself I was going to try to become a writer. Brought plenty of books for inspiration. I read them all, went on hikes, tried my hand at fishing and failed miserably. Every day, I awoke surrounded by the glory of nature. But the words never came. I was empty. Nothing at all to say. I moved in with about a month of supplies, hoping to put off dealing with other people for as long as possible. But as my frustration mounted at my writer’s block, I got lonely. I’d already talked as much as I could stand with my parents and what few friends I hadn’t alienated. And a voice just isn’t the same as a real, live human. That’s where I was at when I heard a knock at my door. I hardly believed it at first, but then it repeated. I opened the door, and in front of me was a grizzled old mountain man. Weather-beaten face, shabby flannels, beard down to his belly button. He shuffled awkwardly for a moment, as though he hadn’t been prepared for anyone to answer, before addressing me. “Name’s Clem. Live t’other side a the mountain. Heard I was getting me a new neighbor last time was in town. Reckon it was time t’introduce m’self.” I nodded and somewhat warily said hello. “Well,” he said, “was havin’ me a party at the old cabin this Friday. Thought it was the neighborly thing to do t’invitecher.” A party! People! Company! At last, after all these weeks alone! I could barely contain my excitement as I told him I’d be there. He paused a moment and added, “Should warn you. Things get mighty rough ‘round here. Reckon there’ll be a whole lot of drinkin’.” Well, I was no teetotaler. I’d had plenty of wild nights, and let him know I could handle my booze. “That ain’t all. People get real rowdy here. Might even be some fightin’.” Now, I wasn’t a fighter like I was a drinker, but I figured I wouldn’t have any trouble. And anyway, I was ready to meet people, so I chuckled and let him know that was no problem. He got a seedy look in his eyes as he glanced away. “Knowing folks ‘round here, might even be some fuckin’.” Now, I was taken aback. But I’ll confess, it’d been some time since I’d enjoyed the pleasures of the flesh, and the thought of it got me quite excited. I told him that would be fine while trying to hide my desperation. “Good. Glad t’hear it. Look forward to seein’ you there.” I said likewise and asked what time I should arrive. “Don’t matter none,” he replied, “just gonna be the two of us.” And that’s how I met the love of my life. We’ll be celebrating our tenth anniversary this weekend.