Not Friends

Don’t tell anyone but I used to be a fly on the wall of bricks and I used fly by flies full of wonder. Its wonderful when you worry but flies live and die in a day. “Stay” I imagined myself saying a thousand times over and over til my words turned to dust and it must’ve dried out my throat because even while I shivered under my coat, I didn’t call out for help, I called out your name to bring sweetness back to my lips.

And we were fighters, lighters of today’s happenstances. Stabbing lances at others, trying to ignite a soul at night. We were the fun in the midnight sun, we had the words but no one ever told me that saving others was for the birds.

Now hurricane rain pours down on my windshield and the wind yield’s debris on my broken window and me. I’m somewhere on the I-10 and I tend to my wounds like trying to make diamonds out of charcoal. Selfish asshole, I move but the story is always the same. Namely, the characters are always reoccurring. Reassuring myself that it’s all in my head, and promising myself that soon I’ll be dead, I carry on the road. 

On this road I have met two, true, more than that but two have meant making memories rather than letting go. Forgetting so many others who meant little makes my friendship brittle. Do I pick and choose, do I trick and lose? Do I mimic and peruse? Does any of it matter?

There’s only the first two, beauties that see through me. They would never love me like I love them but then again, they wouldn’t be sure of that. Back then I was foolish enough to love, praying that my heart would go unheeded. “Deep seeded self esteem issues” they told me I had but truth is I’m useless to the only women I have loved.

The first one taught me how to live, to enjoy the world, whatever it hurled at you. She chuckled my satisfaction and wore her attraction beautifully. Truthfully, she thought she wanted me but I knew better like the driver of the hearse, it’s always been my curse. Now she resides by the tides of Texas and next to as much happiness as her face can muster.

The second one I won’t write about, not because it’s different with her but because it was worse.

It’s okay. It’s okay when you leave. When you’re not around. It’s okay when I sit, by myself, looking over to your empty seat. It’s okay when I’m alone. It’s okay when it hurts. It’s okay with me because I can’t give up. I can’t stop. I won’t stop. Because as long as I can breathe, I’ll make myself laugh it off and move on to the next one. Because it’s okay. I’m okay. I’m always okay.

I’m really bad at letters.

I’m bad at writing in general but I’m even worse at face to beautiful face confrontation, and your face wrote the fucking book on beautiful.

I’m sorry, I am. But not really. Just, look. I know. I know how it ends. How I end and when I found that out I thought about what it meant to die and, don’t take this the wrong way please, but I don’t see you with me at the end. 

Listen baby, I’ve always been bad news. And it’s not that I’m your worst decision, we had a pretty good thing; I just won’t be your anything and everything. 

Not anymore.

I’m sorry this is sudden but a new movie with that actor you like is coming out soon so maybe he’ll give you some comfort. Or maybe that guy at the ice cream place that complimented your eyelashes and liked that you liked vanilla. 

I hate vanilla, baby. 

What I’m trying to  say is I want you to be okay, even though I know you would be even without my efforts and proposed well wishes. I guess the effort just goes a long way like an open palm on a tense shoulder. I can’t be your metaphorical palm or shoulder, but I will wish you the best of every comfort, metaphorical or otherwise.

By the way, you have sexy legs. I just thought you should know. When you’re feeling low, count on those stilt sex symbols to carry you on. 
And your cheeks are always the right shade of fucking goddamn cute.

I miss you already, I do. 

And if we’re being honest, and by we I mean I, and by honest I mean confessing embarrassing things to my (ex)girlfriend, I’m leaving you because the events surrounding and leading up to my death are too embarrassing to admit. How could I admit such a thing to you, you angel?

How could you love me after knowing that about me? 
How could I live knowing you saw me differently? 

So it goes that I cannot live with you knowing about what will force me not to live. 

Life is funny that way, baby. 

Always yours (but not really) and with love (really),

A Coward.

“Do you think it would’ve made a difference? ”

“What’s that?”

“If I told her, you know, everything.”

“Listen, Mike that’s real sweet and everything but that’s the stupidest idea you’ve ever had. You know what would happen. Do you really enjoy masochistic repetition? Because its getting ridiculous.”

“No I know I mean I’m glad I didn’t you know I’m just I don’t know wondering.”

“Oh you pussy. Don’t lie to me, every fiber in your body is yelling at you to chase her down and tell her. Because in your sad little brain, You think playing your last card is the right move to make here.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Bullshit, you think there’s a chance. You think letting her know who you really are is going to change her mind this late in the game? I can’t decide whether you don’t know her at all or that you’re so stupid as to believe she would just change, for you!”

“She wouldn’t I’m just saying I’m curious”

“Curious about dick you fucking homo. Look at me. Mike, look at me. How long have I known you? How long have we been friends? I’m not letting you make any more fuck ups.”

“I can handle it”

“No you fucking can’t you fucking loser. You want to be strong enough you wanna be a fucking man but we know better. You’re a fucking child. As soon as you see that whatever you have to tell her is meaningless to her, your heart will collapse and you’ll remember what we learned a long time ago, what you told yourself you’d never forget. What I’m trying to get you to realize before you go missing her now that she’s gone.”

A waitress came to the booth and smiled at Mike

“Nobody loves you, nobody’s gonna save you”

“Did you say something hun?” The smeared lipstick spread across as the waitress looked at Mike.

“Oh, nothing. Just… talking to myself. ” Mike smiled reluctantly, hoping to sound more charming than crazy. Because that’s who Mike is, he wants you to like him and he doesn’t know why.

Why would I stay. Why would I stay anywhere?

When I got back to the apartment, the mess was still there, the sun light was still yet to peer through my blinds and remind me of the hours I lost. Last night wasn’t terrible, wasn’t great, it was okay. I dropped on my bed and began to take off my boots. My jeans reeked of smoke and spilled drinks. I burped whiskey and gasoline as I blinked away flashbacks of my new city adventures that preceded and led me here. I take my black shirt off, reminiscent of a Spanish song that revealed more truth than anyone cared to admit. I pull my cigarettes out and see I still have a few left, “We’re all evil.” I smile as I light my cigarette. 

 I exhale the smoke and pull of my socks, it’s warm enough to feel the ground. It reminds me of my childhood when socks were a luxury. I thought more about my steps back then but, I felt everything. I miss the loose dirt sometimes, the warm embrace of the earth. Now beneath my feet is smooth, shiny, pseudo-wood.

Then again, I am reminded of it. The tingling sensation in my soul, the tugging twitch in your brain that won’t let you sleep, the vicious grip on your esophagus that suffocates your patience. I think, sometimes, the worst part is that it is such a selfish misery. And I hate myself for it, every time. But I can’t help it, after every party, every night out, every night before I lie to sleep, I always wonder: “Is that all there is?”

I wonder what you’ll be when you can never find me again.

I should be exhausted. I should lie down. But I wanna smoke. So I can feel better. These quick fixes aren’t saving me. Help. Someone. Cuddle me to sleep.