I'm Stuck In This Rut

So, I decided I wanted to write a cute love story. Sorry. It's meant to be silly and sweet.

...Yay, it's finally done!

(Let me know if you find any spelling / grammar errors, please!)


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We laid on the living room floor in the dark. The only sounds were the ceiling fan whirling above our heads and air softly filling our lungs. I was in his arms focusing hard on breathing. To focus on anything else would hurt too much.

"Why can't anything ever be easy?"

"Life's no fun if everything's easy."

“...I'd take boredom over this,” I stated cynically.

He sighed. He turned his head. His eyes met mine.

“I'm sorry I'm no help, Lizzy."

"You are helping. More than you know," I assured him.

He smiled. He kissed my forehead. He felt like home.

I found myself unable to leave this spot. It was warm. Why would I want to leave? Right here, I can force time to stand still. I can watch all the pain shed like dead skin. I wished there were some prayer I could recite or some spell I could cast that could let this last forever.

“I don’t know what to say that will make it any better. If I told you I thought he was scum, would that make you happy?” he asked.

I laughed, “Do you?”

“Anyone who can make you cry this much is scum by my definition,” he answered. I didn’t laugh this time. I could tell he meant that sincerely and it was nice to hear.

The room fell silent once again, but it was a comforting silence. I felt his heartbeat under my hand, which lay lightly on his chest. The floor always seemed so much cozier when his arm acted as my pillow.

“What are you thinking,” he said finally, waking me from my daze.

Of course, I was thinking about a lot of things, not the least of which was the fact that I was currently laying in the arms of my ex-boyfriend who so generously came over to comfort me when I got my heart crushed. Why do I always end up calling him when I’m teary eyed and pathetic?

“I feel safe,” I said through tears.

Tears had been flowing from my eyes on and off for hours. At one point I’d attempted to prevent them from falling, but I failed and I decided it wasn’t worth another shot. Not now. I felt his left arm tighten around me slightly, pushing my head closer to his shoulder. Despite my tears, I forced out a smile.

“You know I’ll be in a lot of trouble if your parents catch us like this. They’ve hated me ever since – ”

“I know. I know. Just give me a few more minutes.”

“Trust me. I’d stay forever if I thought I’d get away with it,” he assured me.

…Since our parents found us in bed together. Yup. That was awkward. In our defense, they weren’t supposed to be home until the next day.

I sat up and pulled my hair back and out of my face. I dried my eyes and squeezed out another smile. I wanted to make it okay for him to leave without him knowing how much I needed him to stay. He sat up with love in the eyes which he stared at me with so intently.

“Call me, okay? If you need me.”

“Yeah. Thank you. For everything. For coming here and for not asking questions. I
just needed – ”

“Don’t mention it,” he said grinning.

With his right hand he felt my cheek and rubbed away the tear that had been making it way down to my chin. Then, he stood and walked towards to door.

“I’ll call you later, Liz,” he said.

“Okay.”

He opened the door and snuck out before my parents made it home from their respective places of work. I guess it’s a good thing he left. The stress of another “Caleb Meets Mom and Dad” experience is more than I can take today.

Without him, however, my mind is free to wander back to last night and the devastated state Andrew left me in. It shouldn’t have come as a surprise that he’d cheated on me. I do know how to pick ‘em after all. He was always heartless, but I never saw it until last night – after the humiliating experience of finding Cathy Milliard in his arms with his tongue shoved down her throat. Somehow he can justify those actions. Maybe it was payment for not going to that party with him last week when I had cramps. Or maybe he wanted to teach me a lesson about trusting people, the lesson being: don’t trust people. Whatever his reasons, they seem pretty pointless now. A year and a half of my life can now be decisively flushed down the toilet and life goes on.

I pulled myself up off the floor and I landed gently on my couch. The lights were still off and the fan still whirled, but the silence that existed now felt stagnant, awkward, and eternal. When I wished for time to stand still, I meant for that to begin several minutes earlier when Caleb’s arms still protected me from the demons of real life. Now, the world refused to spin and the seconds had refused to tick or tock. I grew restless and anxious.


* * * * *


I no longer recall how much time passed before I heard a jingling outside as my mother turned her key into the key whole on our front door. I was relieved to no longer be forced to sit alone with my thoughts, but also somewhat nervous about how to act around my family. Of course, they knew I’d been seeing Andrew, but I always tried hard not to let on how much I really admired him. Therefore, I did not want them to know how truly hurt I felt. Women in my family do not get their hearts broken. We are a strong bunch.

“Elizabeth?”

“Yeah, mom, I’m right here.”

“Oh, there you are! It’s so dark in here!” she said turning on the lamp. “How was class today? Uhhh – Gender and Rights today, right?”

“Yeah. Umm, but class was cancelled,” I lied instead of admitting I’d skipped it.

“Oh really? Why is that?”

“Umm, I don’t know, Mom. The professor just wasn’t there,” I explained as she sat down next to me on the couch.

We sat quietly for a moment and then Mom asked, “Why were you sitting here with the lights off?”

“Oh. I…I just had a headache. I’m okay now, though. Advil!” I stated with a smile drawn crookedly on my face.

“If you don’t feel well, I can make you some tea,” she offered. “Maybe it would help on the whole – not just that ‘headache’ of yours?”

“I’m fine, Mom, really. I don’t want to talk about Andy right now.”

“Okay,” she said reaching for the remote. “News okay?”

“Yes,” I responded in relief.

I’d spent the entire day not talking about Andy and I decided that was what I wanted to do for a while. What I wanted to do more than anything was be in Caleb’s arms again. I knew it’d be a while before I got that chance, though.

The newscasters rambled on and on about the fires, the murders, and the robberies, though spent only thirty-five seconds (yes, I counted) on the breast cancer walk and another twenty on the man who saved a stray dog from drowning. I watched and wondered if bad days were simply manufactured: created and spat back out to us in neatly wrapped news-gifts. Maybe this day, my own little bad day, is just a figment of my imagination made worse by the belief that I thought Andy was a good guy and that I was supposed to be with him.

I mean, had the whole thing really been so bad? So, I was embarrassed in front of a house full of my peers, but…it could have been worse. At least now I know what kind of guy he is. Maybe this can help me to avoid similar situations in the future. And really, anything that brings Caleb near can’t be totally horrible.

Caleb is a book of his own. He’s both my parents’ worst enemy and my first love. Mom and Dad can’t stand the sight of him and I suppose they deserve to feel that way. They never got the chance to know him and now they don’t want to. Regardless of all the fights I’ve had with them on the subject, they just don’t want to hear that he’s a good guy. They’ll always just see him as the boy who took their daughter’s virginity, the boy who convinced me to lie to them. The truth is, though, I didn’t need convincing. My mind had already been made up. It was my idea in the first place and I don’t regret anything that happened before my door swung open and my parents’ jaws dropped. What a mess I made of everything, but to feel that close to someone was worth is to me at the time. I guess I never thought they’d banish him from my life.

That was years ago, though. I’ve stopped mentioning Caleb’s name around them and I just let them think I’ve cut off contact with him. Maybe they’re over it by now, but I don’t think I can handle talking to them about it right now no matter how much I wish Caleb were here.

“Hun, where’s the bread?” my dad asked my mom.

I hadn’t even noticed he’d come home.

“Oh, I moved it to the other cupboard,” she responded, officially waking me from my thoughts.

“I think I’m going to take a bath and go to bed,” I said. “I think my headache is coming back.”


* * * * *


“Fuck that kid! That’s what I say,” my friend Sharon stated proudly as we sat across from each other in the student center café.

“You say that about everyone,” I replied with a smirk.

“Hey! It’s ‘cause it’s true. That asshole isn’t worth the ground he walks on.”

“That doesn’t change the fact that I will never show up at another one of Vanessa Hundley’s parties ever again!”

“So what! It’s not like they’re fun! I throw better parties with my eyes closed!” She exclaimed and I suppose she had a point. We sat quietly for a moment and then, “What did Caleb have to say about it?” she asked quietly.

I looked up from my half eaten bagel as if I’d been caught by the police dealing drugs.

“How’d you –“

“I can tell when you’ve seen him. You always where a touch of perfume when you’re thinking about him.”

I rolled my eyes, but had nothing with which to counter her remark. She was right, after all. My eyes focused back down to my bagel and I responded, “He didn’t say anything about it. I didn’t want to talk about it. He thinks Andy’s scum. That’s all.”

“Yup, that’s Caleb!” she said with a chuckle. “He’s a smart kid. So, what’s going on with him?”

“I don’t know.”

“C’mon! You already admitted you saw him!”

“I did see him, but we didn’t really talk.”

Sharon slammed her hands on the table and stood with a victorious, “AHAAA! You two are getting back together!”

“What!? No! We weren’t making out, you freak! We were just…sitting.”

“Sitting?” Sharon repeated skeptically.

“Laying, really.”

“Uh huh. Laying.”

“We were just laying on the floor. Nothing happened.”

“Okay, so you want me to believe that you and your first love laid on the floor together, but didn’t talk or make out?”

“That’s what happened!”

“You are so full of shit,” she said laughing. “But if that’s your story, I’ll bite. Why did you lay on the floor with Caleb in silence?”

I signed, but it was a valid question for my best friend to ask, so I replied, “I was upset and I didn’t want to talk about it.”

“Uh huh,” Sharon said skeptically, once again. “So, there was no talking because you didn’t want to talk. Why did you ask him over, then?”

“I just…wanted to see him. I guess,” I paused and continued, “I mean, I thought I wanted to talk, but I really just wanted to…”

“Lay on the floor in your former lover’s arms in silence?” Sharon asked with a goofy smile.

“This conversation is over!” I said trying to hide the fact that I was blushing. I stood and began to walk to my class.

“Mhmm! Well, when you’re pregnant from ‘laying on the floor,’ I don’t want to hear any complaints!”

I know Sharon was trying to help and take my mind off Andy, but all she really did was make me wonder more and more about whether or not I’ve just been lying to myself. I’m nineteen now. How much longer can my parents keep me away from Caleb? When will MY little fuck up be forgiven and forgotten? I wish I didn’t start having these thoughts every time I have a bad date or an embarrassing break-up. Why is he that one person my mind always wanders back to? I’m not a big believer in love at first sight, nor am I one of those girls who thought she’d marry her first boyfriend. It just seems like Caleb is the only one who never actually hurt me, but maybe that’s only because he never had the chance to. On the other hand, what if he really is “the one” and I’m stuck being apart from him? What if destiny exists and there really is one person for everyone out there and Caleb’s my one!? What if I’m wasting my time on other guys when my soul mate has been staring me in the face since middle school!?

“Good afternoon, my starry-eyed pupils!” Professor Baron interjected, ending my train of thought.


* * * * *


Snuggled up against his strong, warm body, I felt peaceful and safe. I knew that from this place, no one could harm me. All of my insecurities were shielded from public view. I listened to his heartbeat as he slept and I tried not to be distracted by his simple beauty, but my mind couldn’t wander too far from my surroundings – not when I happened to be exactly where I wanted to be. My eyes wouldn’t stay closed long enough to sleep. I feared that if I slept, the night would end too soon and I would have nothing to remember of it or of how happy Caleb looked at this very moment.

…was the dream I woke suddenly out of.

It’d been several days, but I hadn’t had to face Andy yet. We haven’t had a class together since we broke up. Did we even break up? All I really remembered was gasping and running out of the house. So long as I survive Victorian Literature, I’ll be fine. Why did I ever suggest we take classes together? That’s almost as bad as going into business with family.

As I walked to the lecture hall, my stomach turned into a knot. I saw Andy sitting in his usual place in the last row in the second to last seat on the right. Mine was the last seat. I liked aisle seats. I had no intention of sitting there, though. How could I? So, I took a seat on the left in the second row from the front.

Class was a joke. Don’t ask what me what Dr. Gerran said because I have no idea. My focus was on how I could make a quick escape once the class let out.

Class ended and I soon learned that all that planning was to no avail.

“Hey! Wait up!” I heard a voice shouting from behind me.

How’d he find me? I didn’t even go out the same door we usually go out from!?

“Slow down! Please! Just wait a minute.”

For reasons I can’t quite figure out, my legs began to move more slowly until they stopped moving all together and they somehow twisted me around until I faced him. All of this was done without my consent. Every logical muscle in my body stopped working causing this catastrophe to occur. I did not want to talk to him. I did not want or need to hear his excuses.

“Thank you,” he said.

I remained silent.

“How are you?” he asked.

“Great,” I said ironically.

“C’mon. Lizzy, I’m really sorry.”

“I don’t really want to hear it,” I stated and I found the strength to walk away. He grabbed my arm as I tried to turn away. “Don’t touch me!” I shouted.

“Okay! Okay! Just, let me explain.”

“Explain? There’s nothing to explain, Andrew!”

“It was a mistake! I swear! I don’t love her! It just all got fucked up!”

“Yeah, I’d say it got fucked up!”

“Please. Let me make it up to you. Let me prove it to you.” I couldn’t think of anything to say and then he added, “I’m so sorry, Lizzy. That look you had on your face? I’d do anything to erase that.”

Part of me felt that he was being sincere. Maybe it was just some big misunderstanding or maybe he just has a lapse in judgment. It happens to us all, right?

“Fine,” I said.

“Really!? Great!” he said gleaming. With a kiss on the cheek he asked, “Can we do coffee tonight? Talk?”

“Umm, yeah,” I agreed.

“Great!” he said once again. “I’ll meet you at the diner…8ish?”

“Yeah, that should be fine.”

Why I agreed to such a ridiculous arrangement is beyond me. What was it about Andy that forced me to listen even when I was fed up? Whatever it was, most guys didn’t have this effect on me and I suppose that’s partially why I felt talking to him was worth the effort.


* * * * *


Before I was even to get back home, I regretted the agreement I’d made. Why couldn’t I have just stuck with my decision to ignore him? Why did I turn around and legitimize him? And what on earth possessed me to agree to have coffee with him?

Well, my love for coffee had something to do with that – low blow, Andy, low blow.

Panicked, I tried to think of reasons, excuses, to bail on this meeting. I combed through my day planner, hoping to see a note about a meeting or an assignment that needed immediate attention. I was practically praying to find out I had an exam the next day so I could stay in and study.

“Why am I being like this?” I wondered. “Why can’t I just call him up and say I can’t make it? Better yet, why can’t I just not show up!? What is wrong with me!?” I thought. Aloud I said, “Oh, right, I’m not Andy.”

I picked up my phone and did the only thing my instincts told me to do: call Caleb. He’s reliable. He’d know what to do. He’d know what to say.

“Hey,” he said when he finally picked up.

“Hi!” I said stupidly.

"So, what’s going on? Everything okay?”

“I did something really dumb.”

“Uh oh,” he said with a slight chuckle in his voice. “What’d you do this time?”

“I agreed to meet him…and talk…I’m supposed to meet with Andy tonight and I decided a little too late that I didn’t want to,” I confessed.

The phone fell silent. I couldn’t tell him he was thinking or if my phone had died and I thought about hanging up – , “What do you want me to do about that?” he said as my thoughts evaporated.

“How can I get out of this?” I asked. “I don’t know what to do.”

“Well, neither do I,” he stated, now with a tinge of frustration. “I thought you broke up. I thought you hated him. I thought you were so distraught you had to call me over because he’d hurt you so damn badly.”

“He did, but – ”

“But that’s it? Forgive and forget because he wants to talk!? So, because he wants to talk, he must really care and you must be wrong?”

“I don’t kn –”

“Stop doing this!” he shouted. “I’m sorry, but you can’t call me up expecting me to pull you out of all your messes! I have a hard enough time pulling myself out of my own! Look, either meeting with him or don’t, but don’t fool yourself into thinking he’s everything you need and don’t come crying back to me when he breaks your fucking heart again…which he will. I have to go,” he blurted out angrily and hung up leaving me teary eyed and pissed off.

“He talks to me like I can’t make my own decisions,” I thought to myself. “I can figure this out on my own. I don’t need him. I just wanted a little advice, but I don’t need his input,” I convinced myself.


* * * * *


The cool breeze of thin air brushed my cheek as I drove to the diner. I wished it were raining or snowing. I wished there’s been a tornado – anything to give me a valid excuse to cancel or, at least, postpone this adventure that I could already tell was a mistake. My ill-advised decision to “talk” to Andy had my palms sweaty and my lungs constantly rushing for oxygen. My face was warm and nothing felt quite right.

Upon arriving at my destination, I sat with the car running in the parking lot for several minutes, looking at my cell phone, and begging my mind to come up with some reason to bail out. I wished I were a guy – guys don’t need excuses to bail. Decisively, I opened my cell phone and began to dial Andrew’s number when he appeared outside my car.

“Coming out?” he asked.

I opened the door and replied, “Yeah, I was just waiting for a call, but I guess if she needs me she’ll call,” I lied. He didn’t ask.

We made our way to the entrance where he stopped and held the door for me. I said nothing in response. Did I really owe him a “thank you” for that after everything? I decided the answer was “no.”

“Can I getcha something to start?” asked the waitress.

“Just coffee, please.” I responded.

“And you?” she asked Andy.

“Yes. Coffee also, please.”

Now that we had this table to ourselves, it seemed very cold. I silently prayed for the waitress to come back and say something, anything, anything at all.

“Alright, I’ll start,” Andy blurted. “I’m sorry that happened. I’m sorry you saw it happen. It wasn’t supposed to. It just…happened. Shitty excuse. I know. But, I didn’t mean to hurt you and I didn’t mean for it to happen. I don’t know what I was thinking or what…I just don’t know.”

“Well, that’s a problem, then. You just never think, Andy…"

“You weren’t supposed to be there!” he said cutting me off.

The waitress came with our coffee and we once again receding into silence. As she left, I gave thought to throwing my cup at him, but I composed myself.

“So, because I wasn’t there, that makes it okay to make out with someone else?”

“What? No, that’s not…”

“What? Not what you said? How is my attendance at some stupid party relevant to this conversation then? Unless you thought you could do it and get away with it!?”

“Well, had I known you were going to be there I would have been in a better, less vulnerable mood.”

“Ohhh, okay, so it’s my fault? So, if I go with you everywhere, I’ll be the only one you make out with?”

“Exactly,” he said, apparently not catching my sarcasm.

“Then we’re done here. Make out with whomever you want just so long as she’s not me,” I stated firmly, slammed two dollars on the table, and walked out.

As I approached my car, I felt the courage evaporate. I could hardly breathe and as I opened my car door, I wanted nothing more than to call Caleb and hear him tell me how everything would be okay and he’d be with me soon. This is not like me. This isn’t me at all. I’m not the kind of girl to care about the bad behavior of stupid little boys, but somehow I let this one get to me. How? And why? What did Andy have that made him so irresistible to me? Well, nothing anymore. That charm and wit was only a mask he wore. I see though it now and I’ll be better off for it.

With tears in my eyes, I pulled out of the diner parking lot, not quite sure where I was heading, but happy to be getting away and leaving Andy behind. I couldn’t go home looking and feeling like this. I wouldn’t have the strength to dog the questions my parents would ask. So, driving seemed like the best option. You can only drive so long before you realize you need a destination at some point, but I had a few CDs and I knew my way around back roads, so I figured I was well prepared for at least an hours’ worth of good driving before I started re-driving old paths.

I let myself cry and I thought about all my mistakes. How could I have been so naïve? How could I have gotten myself into this mess? I thought about every little thing Andy did that annoyed me and I wondered why these hadn’t acted as warning signs. I though about Caleb and how right he’d been about everything. Why didn’t I listen?

Of course, I ended up sitting outside Caleb’s house. I sat in my car for a while wondering whether or not I should go to his door. I weighed the pros and cons. Knowing he was mad at me, I began to reason my way into leaving and letting him cool off. There’s nothing he can do anyway, and my presence at his doorstep would only prove he was completely right and possibly anger him more. He deserves some space.

On the other hand, I was already there, sitting outside like a stalker or an FBI agent or something. He probably already knew I was there. He could probably hear my car or sense my presence with his burden radar.

“That’s it,” I said and I got out of my car.

Walking up his driveway to the front door, each noise I made seemed loud enough to deafen. Still, I thought about turning back, but my hand was already in mid-air ready to ring the doorbell when the door swung open.

“What are you doing here?” Caleb asked standing in the doorway with his jacket in his hands.

“I’m sorry. I thought we should talk, but I guess I wasn’t thinking,” I said regretfully.

“Where are you headed?”

“I was coming to find you! I figured you’d be a mess by now and since you hadn’t called, I…I guess I needed to know you were okay.”

“Could have called.”

“Didn’t think you’d pick up. I’m sorry for, well, about how I talked to you before. I just –”

“It’s okay. I deserved it,” I admitted. “You were right and I’m sorry for always putting things on your back.”

“No, but, see…that’s the thing!” he exclaimed happily, making me feel as if I’d missed a step.

“What is?” I asked slightly amused by his enthusiasm.

“I want you to. I mean, I want to know what’s going on and I want to know it you need help or advice. It’s just that some things are sore subjects. I guess Andrew was one of them, but you didn’t know that,” he explained calmly.

“Why? I mean, why was it a sore spot?” I asked confusedly, only to receive his “don’t act dumb” face.

“You know the answer to that. I’m not over you. His isn’t news.”

I didn’t know what to say, so I just stood there awkwardly hoping something ingenious would pop into my mind.

“You wannna come in?” he asked, stepping back from the doorway to let me in.

“Yeah.”


* * * * *


So, we walked through the hallway we’d walked through a hundred times before to reach the living room and the couch where we’d spent countless hours watching movies or stupid TV shows. Why did this feel like the first time I’d been to his house? Why did every sound the wooden floor made under my feet sound new? Why did the smells enter my nostrils with such a gentle rub?

I sat down on the couch.

“Water or anything?” he asked.

“Uh uh.” I said shaking my head.

He sat next to me, unable to look me in the eyes.

“I’m sorry I yelled. Really. That was unfair of me.”

“It’s okay,” I assured him.

More silence followed.

“I just hate him. I’m sorry. I do. I don’t just hate him because he gets to be with you and I don’t. I hate him because he gets to be with you and he doesn’t even realize how important that is…how lucky he is. He’s willing to screw it up and hurt you and I hate that he had the audacity to hurt you,” he explained quickly, losing his breath and still focusing on the couch cushion. “It’s an impossible situation and I know your parents…and even mine…I mean, I know it’s not good, but…” his words trailed off briefly as he collected his thoughts. “I love you,” he said finally. “I’m sorry. And I know how complicated this makes everything, but…I love you.”

Without receiving permission first from my brain, my mouth blurted, “I love you too” and that goofy grin washed over my face.

What were we doing? Did we even know? Why was he moving closer? Did we even know how to do this anymore?

As my thoughts preoccupied my mind, Caleb’s fingers brushed my cheek and he smiled wide. I could feel his hair on my forehead as our lips met. It felt perfectly familiar. Despite our separation, there were some things he and I always got right.

Deep Blue

I wrote you in my notebook
and you were deep blue.
I embellished you with marker
until you looked new.

Then I closed my notebook
to try to keep you in.
But you wouldn't lay flat
and you were far too thin.

Now creased and blemished
and too damaged to repair,
I tore you out in anguish
though I know it seemed unfair.

Guilt ridden and all alone,
I laid you peacefully at rest.
Knowing the innocence was long gone
and somehow this was for the best.


********************************************


This was partially inspired by Kevin Devine's "Haircut" and partially by a stanza from one of Nicole's latest blogs: "I took these reminders, / and ripped it up tiny. / I turned off, tuned out / and kept in."

I liked the idea from "Haircut" that memories are associated with things, materials, events, songs, writings...haircuts, etc. He also has a narrative where he takes you through this weird dreamlike story. It's very innocent, but also very sad. I enjoy it. I enjoy Kevin...in case you couldn't tell.

I liked that Nicole "ripped" up her "reminders," so I chose my reminder to be a notebook with easy to damage pages - because my reminder really is my journal.

I don't know. It's silly and has a dumb little rhyme going, but since I haven't felt very creative recently, I am relatively pleased with it. It takes Kevin's story telling technique and combines it with Nicole's paper-ripping imagery. At least, that's what I was sorta going for. :/

I'm really tired and not making much sense. All apologies.

As for what it's about, I guess it's about trying to move on. It's about trying to accept those memories, but see them for what they really are. Don't give the characters more of the benefit of the doubt than they deserve and when it's over, let it be over, and discard it. Take from those memories everything you can learn, but once there's nothing left, don't go looking for something that's not there.

"If there's nothing left to lose than there's nothing left to prove" - The Miracle of '86.

Haha...it's about 4am. I have a radio show in twelve hours I have yet to prepare. I think sleep is in order right now, though.




I saw your haircut in a storefront with choppy sides and perfect bangs. I loved the way it framed the model's cheekbones and the blank expression on her face. So, I went inside and tried to buy it, but I got told it's not for sale. I got embarrassed and I decked the sales clerk, I stole the wig, and ran like hell. And I figured I would come and show you, so I kept running towards your house. Then I remembered I don't have your address, he's not the one you sleep with now. So, I hurried home to get collected, to let the red flush from my face. I took out my notebook and I sketched you smiling. I like to think of you that way. Then I put your haircut in my closet next to your tee shirts and your cards. I turned the lights out and I sunk in, slowly,counting sheep and breathing hard. But when it comes it's way too quickly and it busts apart the faith I've grown: see, I can't stop myself from hurting you, so I guess I won't. - Kevin Devine "Haircut"

We Used To Talk About God

What has your arrogance proven?
Where has your stubbornness lead us?
To dead sons greeted by empty rooms
and split families who bleed red or blue.

What have we learned?
Where is the silver lining?
In the notion that peace rides the backs of missiles
and terror can be squelched with a signature?

What good have you done?
Where has your ignorance stranded us?
Into a nation built on top of bodies and bombs
where walking down the street is criminal.

What have your promises brought?
And where can I find solace?
In the words of a God whose name you throw around
while killing His children in their sleep?

What cause have we to be enraged?
Where has our humanity hidden?
Behind the glassy infant eyes of a blind nation
whose vengeful nature caught us red handed.

What comfort can I find without resolution?
Where can I reconcile these disillusions?
In the voices of my leaders
or in those sympathetic cries that haunt my daydreams?

**********************************************

Maybe I'm too harsh. Maybe I'm not harsh enough. Maybe I talk too much and act too little. Maybe we really should revolt. All I know is the semester is one week old and I'm already angry. I don't stay glued to the news, but I'm informed enough to know how fucked up everything is and I know I'm not powerless, but on the other hand, I also don't know how to empower myself or what good the atempt would do. Or maybe I do know and I'm just too cowardly. I don't know. This country has split. Friends can't talk about world events without literally becoming enraged (even if they agree with each other). Guns and bombs aren't going to fix a Goddamn thing! They hate us because of our wealth and our arrogance. We're just feeding the fucking fire!

I'm so tired of feeling guilt over this. Plus, I have no proof that another president would have acted any better. I mean, I have reason to believe there was a better guy for the job, but that doesn't mean things would have gotten any better. The truth is, it's a mess. It has been for centuries. We're there and we can't fix that now.

So...where to from here?



"We used to talk about God and I know this is not about blame. This time it's my fault." The Miracle Of '86 A Less Important Place

Senseless

why do i miss you so much?
why is it that warmth i've never known curls up next to me in dreams?
why can't you detect the strain in my voice?
why are those miles dressed up like lightyears?

how do i reconcile between what i want and what i can actually have?
how is it that every soft song reminds me of you?
how can't you wonder what the atlantic looks like?
how are you doing?

these shapes that haunt my daydreams become clearer by the hour
and i feel my sanity slowly slipping somewhere senseless.
see what i look like with those teary eyes
and i'll show you how you look when you're at your best.


****************************************

^ i'm not sure how i feel about this. ^

i don't remember how this one began. i had some questions, but i didn't know to whom they were supposed to be directed. so, i guess that's why they ended up here. maybe i do know who they're directed to, but i think some of them are to more than one person. i don't know. it was just something itching. i had the pleasure of seeing kevin devine on friday with jess and kinja, so i was inspired. :)

school has begun, but whatever. i still plan of living a laid back-ish life for now. yeah, i'll have some work to do, but i'm not going to let myself get all stressed out and crazy. that seemed to work pretty well last semester. why change my routine?

oh...and i also got my last.fm back up and working. very happy. :D



"so, we laid glowing in the grass to watch the sun swap with the moon." ~ kevin devine a billion bees

Tally

tell me i'm pretty
and that love should not be feared.
tell me you're gentle
and different from the rest.

make me up with paint and lace,
but ignore the old blemishes you cover.
make me strong and sturdy,
but when i collapse just leave me.

stop strangling my words
and cutting off my breath.
stop pointing that judgmental finger
and let me do my best.

let's tally up our scars,
but forget the reasons for their creation.
let's batten down our happiness,
but leave the doors unlocked.

let's play.
let's play.


************************************************

^ i finally finished this shitty poem. ^


home from the shore. classes start in a few days. i really adore kevin devine and brand new. i'm sick so i'm going to go to bed now.

let's go mets!


"i'm racing towards the one mistake that locks me in my place, a judgment call that justifies the smirk stuck on my face, a crooked life scared straight and stiff by the last wrong turn i'll take. but i'm not there yet, so come purr my pet. let's play, let's play..." kevin devine just stay