2001-10-14 - 2:59 a.m. - a conversation...
i saw you today. pale skin glowing red whenever the wind hit it just right. its been a long time. a long fucking time. years? not days or months or weeks but years. and still pale. and still glowing red in the cold. but those rings beneath yr eyes. that ring on yr finger."yr married now? hoy shit! when did that happen?...about 7 months ago?...wow...me? no i haven't seen anyone in about 3 years...i dunno...some parts bad luck...some parts being too cynical...some parts just giving up and not caring anymore...like it really doesn't matter and i should just accept that im going to be alone...oh don't give me that...do you know how many times i've been told that? everyone is always telling me theres someone out there for me somewhere...or trying to hook me up with their friends...no its just not all that important to me now...well yeah, i mean sure it would be nice...yeah...maybe im just too picky...what am i looking for? why yr not going to try tos et me up? no i know...just a joke...i guess...i just want someone i can have a goodtime with...to hang out with...grow close...have one of those perfect moments in rain or snow where lines blur from one type of companion to another...something natural...go out on dates? no i dont believe in dating...its too forced...its difficult to communicate...wait...why the fuck are we talking about me, yr the one who got married...whats he like, whats he do...what are your plans? fill me in...i haven't talked to you in so long?"
and so you tell me all about yr new life. all the plans and dreams of a new found way of existing for you. how he has brown hair and deep brown eyes. how he is so sweet, and hes got a bad temper, but he can control it most of the time. how your so happy and he has a job at that pizza place downtown, right next to the theater, he waits tables and takes classes. he wants to be a lawyer? wow. you want to have two kids, a boy and a girl, but will go up to three if the first two are the same sex. of course, then you say that once your at three what will a fourth hurt. your working at the gas station over by the dayton mall, this is where i am talking to you. you are outside on a smoke break.
"I didn't know you smoked...you were always so against it...oh well...yeah me too...ya know?...sometimes everything just adds up to the point where nothing matters anymore...so why not smoke?...wait whats yr husbands name? whats yr last name? did you change it? you did? thats cool...i dont think a woman should have to, but if they want to whose to stop them...yeah, i hear where yr coming from...holy shit...him? thats amazing...i dont believe you two stayed together so long...wow...thats amazing...oh you were seperated for a while? but hey, it all worked out right?..."
you hesitate. seem unsure. for a brief second, the span of time it takes for eyes to register the movement of a falling star, you look like you are ready to cry. you are burried beneath the weight of bills and you never sleep. you know you will probably never be able to afford to have children. it wouldn't be fair to them.
"hey...you were always the one who said you would never be able to feel right bringing a human being into a world so drastically fucked up beyond belief...im sorry...i didnt mean that to be a joke...just trying to see that old smile...maybe your first born would win the nobel peace prize, change the world with a smile and a warm heart...a little hardship never killed anyone...yeah everything is incredibly fucked up right now...i don't really understand any of it either...its like nothing is about people anymore...its about politics and war, and the politics of war...yeah im guilty of it too, kid...just reacting to everything i see that feels wrong...i didn't really have time to cry either...he what?...why was it your fault...why would he do that even if it was yr fault...im so confused...he just did it out of frustration? out of anger?...thats ridiculous...he could have thrown in at the wall...why you?...hey at least it missed right?..."
i try not to smile that ugly badnews smile. that smile that i smile when i want to smile least. where does that motherfucking smile come from. why does it exist. am i trying to show everyone that everything is alright by smiling? i don't get it. when i was in middle school a close friends father died. i had to struggle not to smile at the funeral. same thing when my grandmother died 7 years later. am i some kind of freak? why did i smile when you told me he threw a motherfucking lamp at you? i should have cried...but i smiled.
"shit...well...ive got to go...yeah sure...keep in touch...i miss hearing from you...take care...i will...i promise...oh you work there too?...i will definitely stop by when im in town again..."
and all of a sudden i see through the maze of history and freshly woven myths to see you as the fragile woman you currently are. frustrated with your mistakes and too timid and afraid to change them. its okay. thats what you were always taught. its nobodys fault. its everybodys fault. i wave as i get in my car.
"stay strong kid...keep yr chin up..."
you blow me a kiss and finally smile. i wish you could change yr world. i wish you could save yr own life. i wish i were here to help. theres a little bit of skin left on that skeleton. and soon, from the looks of things its all going to be dust. i drive off, windows down. cool night air kissing my face. singing along to that bruce springsteen song; "tramps like us...baby we were born tu run..." and watch you smoke yr third cigarette (nobody gets gas at this hour...) holding the cigarette so far between yr fingers as to cover as much of yr face as possible. maybe so i won't see you laugh at me and my off key singing. but im a great singer. i am an amazing singer for the lone fact that i do sing along with my stereo as loud as i can with the windows rolled down, even when stopped at a traffic light. and as i pull away i stop singing. i feel guilty. here i am telling everyone too dance and sing. and the one person i know who needs all of that the most isn't even capable, doesn't even have the strength to keep her eyes open, let alone dance.
here is to broken dreams.
xoxo.
ps: please dont write me and ask about this incident...for all you know maybe i made it all up...maybe i wouldnt feel right giving away any more than i already did...whether its true or false there is still much to be examined and understood...wow that sounds arrogant...yr on yr own...you fuckin figure it out...
�
�
