Posts tagged monologue

I found a girl to love but I didn’t get her name. I took her smile and nothing else, except for the glances I gave back to her. There was a growing frustration in her face as I did nothing. There was something there and we both felt it; she refused to make the first move. I’m glad she didn’t. I wouldn’t have known what to do, I’m not ready yet. I don’t hope to run into her again because she’ll remember me as a coward. I’m not a coward I’m just taken.

She put her best foot on my back and took another step forward. She used me, stole my magic. Learned all my tricks and I taught her all the ones I was too old to use. I thought when we kissed she meant it. I should have been smarter what would a young thing like her want with an old used dried hag like me.

Could there have ever been love there? There must have been. One kiss must have been real. No one is that good. Even when I used the same tricks some where real.

I couldn’t have been tricked every time.

She was easy to remember but I fumbled her name on purpose. I didn’t want her to know how much space she took up in my head. We’ve only met one. It was just a moment but it’s a solid memory. Everything is there, even things that weren’t. Things that couldn’t of been there. No girl smiles at me like she did in my memory. The type of smile girls bite to get rid of or to make guys notice even more. Either way the smile was a fragment of falsehood that would grow like any story until she threw herself at me in my day dreams. Which is where I preferred to live anyway.

I could have been better but never good enough for you. So I never tried to lower my angry voice or stopped what it would say. I’m as sorry as I can be for that. I didn’t mean any of it but I needed to see you cry. I needed to hurt you as much as you could hurt me.

There was too much grass on the field to play ball and that’s not a euphemism. The lot was overgrown and nothing was how we left it when we all left. I was the last to go and I kept it up till the day I left for college. I wasn’t lucky, smart, or talented enough to go to a real college right out of high school. So I stayed behind for two years missing the old gang and keeping things right.

I thought someone would have taken care of the old lot while I was gone. Some of the new guard from the next generation. They played there. They loved the field. None loved it like we did though I guess. It’s sad. I want to go clean the old girl up but it’s just not in me. I think she’s dead or maybe just a sleeping beauty waiting for someone else to care for her.

I’m not a fighter. I’m a lover of your wife. Soon to be ex-wife. You didn’t take care of her, you didn’t make her forget about me. You never made her feel like I can with just a few touches. You’d forget that you could screw the cap back on your cheap whiskey and pass out leaving her wet and wanting. She’d call me and I’d take her somewhere you couldn’t.

Now she’s mine again and I won’t let her go again.

I took her at face value which wasn’t much but it was enough to win my heart. I told her a thousand times she was beautiful but she didn’t believe me. Maybe because I never really meant it. She was mine though and she was special to me. It hurt that I never found her beautiful and I hoped one day a better man who did would take her away from me but it never happened and I finally had to let her go.

This should be a younger man’s pain. A younger man’s fight. Someone with every girl in front of him not with two wives behind him. Yes, I could be your father. No, I couldn’t be anymore in love with you. I’ve never felt like this before. I feel crazy and it’s driving me mad. I need you in my life. I need you to be with me. Please be with me. I love you. Marry me.

I’d hate to find out that the only things I like about myself are medical problems, something that can be cured with a pill. That this amazing beauty I feel will go away with the lows that get me in trouble. Will my turn of phrase and outlook change so much that i’ll feel like a stranger to myself? I already feel different enough.

I drove to my favorite bar and walked home with all the same problems I went there with plus a few more to drag me down further down the gutter that could be a bed. Everything could be a bed now. Maybe I should sleep in the middle of a busy street and see how much people can ignore.

I’m sure it would end well.

You’re the thought that creeps into my head and make me exhale a smile. Even after all the years and girls. We fought so well and made up so clumsy, but we were new to it all. Second kiss, first lover and nothing in common. Less in common now but I’d give it another try, if just to show you the things I’ve learned.

I miss you as much as I could kiss you, and I could kiss you a lot. Long deep kisses that would make us both light headed. You’d pull away first like you always do, did. It’s like you’re dead and I can’t except it. I’m not single. I’m just giving you some time. More time than anyone would need. I know I’m hopelessly hopeful. Ignorantly so. I hate myself for it and because of it, I understand why you left me. I’m not the type of man anyone needs. I’m just a boy. A series of failures and some good bets. I’m not the stable ground you build a home on. I wish I was for you.

Goodbye.

Take it like I tell you and it’ll only hurt when I want it to. Your flesh is red from heat from scratches from screaming from the blood that clots the little cuts I love to cut, the cuts I cut again. Little rusted drops of iron on the plastic. How long have you been here? Not as long as you think. You’ll be gone soon. Yes, I mean dead. Beg like a whore and serve me like a slave in the afterlife in my little slice of heaven.

Dylan never made anything clearer. He just made me confused; and being able to enjoy something that confuses the hell out of you is like sex with a woman that loves you. How could someone this perfect do something so dirty with you? She must be some new kind of crazy. Satan must whisper in her ear and says he’s god. Tells her I’m good for her. It can’t be something she thinks herself. She’s a smart girl. I try not to worry about it though. I can’t think about it too much or I’ll start making up reasons and meanings that aren’t there. I just hope it lasts forever.

My favorite thing to do in the morning is lay in bed for as long as I can convince myself I don’t need to pee, scraping off the bad taste off my tongue with my teeth. I can never get to the back. Maybe that’s what really gets me out of bed. Nothing else does. It’s not depression, or maybe it is. It’s not deep anymore. There’s a saying that depression will swallow you whole; I think it just got my leg. It’s not taking anymore and I think we’ve both good with it. A medicated compromise. It keeps me grounded.