echoes

Counting Crowes ‘Long December’ (I couldn’t help myself. Anyway, it’s a good song)

The best part of living alone is coming home to an empty house with nothing to do, taking some pills and going straight to bed. Life is grand. (Life is grand?)

fine, the good times

The first time I met Cory and Dorian I hold with such a fondness. Not to say I’m terribly fond of either of them, the one dead and gone before he could come stateside to marry me, and the other, a life-long friend if I can say so far in my twenty-two years. I feel old, but I’m still fresh. I could use that as a slogan of sorts couldn’t I?

My brother Mick had two best friends, and the two aforementioned boys had the privledge of being said mates. I remember it clearly though I’d love to block it all out.

‘This is my little–well, by a score of minutes–sister. Charlotte, but you remember my Dad calls her Gracie, ’cause she is so.’

And Cory just winks and says ‘Ace’.
Dorian smiles ‘It’s an honour, love, err, Charlotte? Grace?’
‘Charlie would suit her’ Mick says.

And so I was Charlie.

Now back to myself. The first time I heard the Ben Folds Song ‘Gracie’ I started to cry. I don’t know if it was because it reminds me of one of them, or all of them. Dorian is the only still alive. It’s not even really my middle name, but Mick and Dad were so set on all the playful names to poke fun at me, I gave in. I was Charlie, and P, and Gracie, and Little Smalls.

To the good times. [raises hand in motion of toast, nods and smiles wryly and exists stage left]

the nineth

“The next time I wake up I want it to be in a rabbit hole to the sound of you making coffee, with the warm salty sea, it’s waves crashing over me.”

I don’t want to say Happy Christmas. I want to say get home safe. Look at your mum, your sister, your son, and remember, one day, unless it’s you first, you’ll not be able to smile at them and say how much you love them. It could be slow and painful, but more often than not, it’s spur of the moment, grief stricken, and without pity or time. All we ever seem to want is a little more time, but it is sometimes a luxury fate or God will not allow us.

I miss him so very much. Every year, someone says it will get better, and I suppose to an extent it does, but still, they are the ones who have not lost a relation so close. I fake a smile and nod gratefully.

It hit me though, that no one really cares much about the whole thing until they loose someone really really close. They don’t get it. I was sitting in my flat with my boyfriend last night, and he says how relieved he’ll be once Christmas is over. I nod. He remarks how much I hate it. I nod. He asks if there’s any particular reason I hate the season so much. I shrug, get up, and walk out of the room. It’s important, so important to me…how could it just slip by? Like I said though, you never know until they’re gone.

So Happy Christmas. And remember.

it’s the most wonderful time of the year?

Just Jack ‘Snowflakes’

It does not bring out the best in people, this holiday season. Although I find the best of me is my most brusque self. Yes. Is it. There just isn’t much joy left for family and friends. There isn’t time for anything important.

I think my sister wanted to cry today. We were making batches of cookie dough and eating lunch, and I told her about the skin cancer. She frowns. She looks exasperated. She opens her mouth ‘cervical cancer, uterine cancer, skin cancer…did you ever think that maybe it’s going to keep coming back in different forms?’ Call me stupid, but it didn’t really occur to me. I thought, maybe being ivory skinned and tanning those few months before vacationing in California, maybe that explains the spots on my skin. I knew the orginial problem wasn’t from hpv, but maybe just God’s wish. I mean, of course everything is, but it was easier to shrug it off, or laugh, or both. Convenience. I wonder now, if I will infact spend more holidays and workdays withering. What do I do? Pray? Cry? Build a support group? None of them are me, but scariest of all, fight? I’m not that person either.

I just want a good, warm happy Christmas. It’s not so much to ask for, but all the frets and gifts and anxiety are too much. New year, new beginnings, come on. Same old shit though.

this one’s for the ladies…

I’m too nice, huh? I should get angry and get you out of my head, right? It’s a silent, back-handed fuck-you-I-don’t-need-you (or anyone else) to walk away.

You want me to get mad? I don’t think so. You want me to leave it all behind and decide once and for all that I’m not looking back? Hardly.

I came prepared, however. I’ve got a few ample sets of things to make you wish you’d always had me the way you did………

Think I can’t sucker you back in again, have your bottom lip quivering, leaning forward, eyes half closed…?

…when they open I’ll be gone. Not fair, huh? How many times did I wake up that way?

The whole damn world around me misses the spark I carried, so here. I’m back to normal, back to good. Everything else I worked for wasn’t so much me, just the compassion everyone holds. It wasn’t always me, wasn’t always a good idea.

Ben Folds ‘Gone’

the second half (the better half)

………I got a look-back the other day, and stayed mum about it, not for the sake of argument, but for the sake of not starting one. I saw Auto. I didn’t know he’d be there, all powder-blue sweater clad and scouting me out. But I saw him, and he saw me. We met eyes, and he raised a hand, parted lips to hail me, and I turned, hair swinging, and walked right past him, smiled to my new love instead, and retreated to my office in the back. Once more, I took myself somewhere he could not touch me.

Even so, I wish I could apologize, or give a feasible explaination for why I can’t just tell him to bugger off. It’s not my nature. Just as I sat quietly by and let him use me, I try to push him out without a word. For six months, I feel more assured I can endure with a secure love as my guide. No more feeling around in the dark. It’s certainly not the reaction of over two years of separation, but I wish anyone could see the marathon of space I’ve run to set myself apart from him.

When I give, I jump right in, and it takes some time to forget all the scars and fractures from hitting rock bottom head first.

the look-back

It will get them every time. Just don’t do it unless you really mean it. Thinking back, I never gave a sweet look-back except to a few close guy friends of mine. None of my lovers.

The thing is, the one big love should be your friend. The best. The can’t-take-my-eyes-off-you top shelf kind you wait and wait and wait and…………well, you get the point. The point is, you’ve got to be incredibly happy.

Is someone popping back up a flaw? In me, yes perhaps. But it is not a flaw in a love shared. It’s simply a memory, and if I could have erased it, I might have. The thing is, I’m a perfectionist, but I don’t get a do-over on my past, especially when it’s just not worth getting up again for.

I want to say, just be happy with me. Not every detail is important I’ve learned. I don’t need all my questions answered, promises fulfilled, or remorse confirmed. I got the look-back, too, and it was enough………

(to be continued)

superflous, really

I wonder…this popped up in conversation of sort–a lyrical back-and-forth…is it just a song (for Christs’ sake, do I have to be so girl about everything?!) or is it a message in the words and voice that was never there for me?

Avenged Sevenfold ‘Dear God’

A lonely road, crossed another cold state line
Miles away from those I love
Purpose hard to find
While I recall all the words you spoke to me
Can’t help but wish that I was there
Back where I’d love to be

Dear God the only thing I ask of you
Is to hold her when I’m not around
When I’m much too far away
We all need that person who can be true to you
But I left her when I found her
And now I wish I’d stayed
‘Cause I’m lonely and I’m tired
I’m missing you again, oh no

There’s nothing here for me on this barren road
There’s no one here while the city sleeps
And all the shops are closed
Can’t help but think of the times I’ve had with you
Pictures and some memories will have to help me through, oh yeah

Dear God the only thing I ask of you is
To hold her when I’m not around
When I’m much too far away
We all need that person who can be true to you
I left her when I found her
And now I wish I’d stayed
‘Cause I’m lonely and I’m tired
I’m missing you again, oh no
Once again

Some search, never finding a way
Before long, they waste away
I found you, something told me to say
I gave in, to selfish ways
And how I miss someone to hold
When hope begins to fade…

A lonely road, crossed another cold state line
Miles away from those I love
Hope is hard to find

Dear God the only thing I ask of you is
To hold her when I’m  not around,
When I’m much too far away
We all need the person who can be true to you
I left her when I found her
And now I wish I’d stayed
‘Cause I’m lonely and I’m tired
I’m missing you again, oh no
Once again

 

What am I to think? It doesn’t matter, but it does. I saw him type how much he wished he hadn’t fucked things up, but I never heard the words, and I never saw the kind of remorse exuded in such a song. Superfluous, really, but still perhaps just what I need when I feel weak.

slamming the door

311 ‘Don’t Tread On Me’

Yes, there are still nails dug into me. No, it’s no one’s business. I’ll keep it all to myself. I regret mentioning his name, or telling any of our stories. I’m so happy now, when I look around, but I still wonder what if I hadn’t walked away. Where would I be now?