Covet A Brainy Tune

teganandsaraquin:

Hello.
It’s been days and days, and I’ve been missing you.  I’m sorry that I didn’t give chase when you went away. I bet it stung to think I didn’t care, that those nineteen months meant nothing. You gave me all you got, your love and beauty and I stood there frozen. At the time I thought you would just come on back, I really didn’t expect you to call it off. When I realised you weren’t just acting so jealous I tried to call, but when you saw my number I knewyou wouldn’t answer. I know, I know, I know that this is no excuse.

You know me and you know I’m not a city girl, but downtown just had me buried alive. You always told me “don’t rush” yet here I am and I didn’t want to be bad, but through all the trouble, where does the good go? I’ve become more infamous than famous and I can’t blame anyone else, I take all the blame. It was just me.

The superstar hype pulled me far and the star money kept me there. The longer I remained the less that world was like the ocean of wonder that I first believed it to be. I see now it’s more like an alligator dragging my body underwater. You always told me “they’re waiting for you”. You were right, but they were done with me soon after. It’s like the emaculation of my horizon, everything is clear and I know what I need. I need you; I feel it in my bones. You’ve always helped me go on, directing me to what was best.
And darling, I’m lost without you.

I am divided now, like the man with two brains. There is the real me, empty in between.
And then there’s the con. I’m dancing in the dark, pretending to be happy, waiting for my world to light up again with you in it. I’m walking with a ghost of you through what feels like a terrible storm, and every gust of wind pulls you further from me.

I still hope, as I’m falling asleep, lingering on the bounds of consciousness that someday soon you’ll hop a plane and be with me again. You’re the cure. You’d say “I’ll fix you up”. I’d stutter, and then you’d tell me to “speak slow” like you always did. I’ll tell you “welcome home” and I won’t wake up exhausted anymore. I would forget everyone else, we could be normal.

You’d take me anywhere; maybe you would take me home, back to the Northshore. We could hang out in our old living room where I wrote that first plunk song and could spend hours in the kitchen cooking clever meals. The anonymity of our simple hometown giving us freedom that would allow us to take walks in the park singing that little sentimental tune that we always sang. We’d play your game with our trees and roll in the soil, soil that would show us that this is everything.

Morning comes, and it’s another goodbye. When I get up all I can say is “dark come soon” because it’s hell to be not with you. It’s like I’m keeping a night watch, terrified that when I fall asleep my brain will tell me “not tonight” and I’ll be alone. Sometimes, my dreams of you are so real I can feel you there, relief next to me, your warmth in my sheets.

Lately, I’ve been seeing you around. Like one month ago I thought I saw you on the street, and for that one second there was a celebration in my heart it felt how it did when you were mine, when I was married. I remember it. It was midnight on a Monday? Monday… Monday. Oh, how I’ve now grown to hate Mondays. I loathe all days, what’s the use without you and our love type thing?

Sometimes, I hear noises that remind me of you. They repeat in my head like our painting songs, they’re like an arrow through my skull. I told myself “don’t go looking and don’t be cruel to yourself” because it would only cause more hurt. But you were the first and are the only and my thoughts have left me to wonder if you really are doing better without me like you said you would.

Are you ten years ago? Are you back to saying “come on kids” like you did when we thought it was cool, back when we each had a red belt and we didn’t do it for anyone but ourselves?
Wait, don’t confess. I can’t take it to know. It feels like a knife going in to my paperback head.

It’s been two years, and it’s hard to believe. How is time running so fast? How have I let it get to the point that if we were to meet again it would be pointless because I know you wouldn’t like me?  I’m pushing heavy into the paper as I write this, as if my whole emotional weight is rushing through the pen. I feel like my wrists will snap at any letter, like o, like h.

I don’t know if you’ll get this letter and even if you do, I won’t be left here by then.  I’ve seen the floorplan of how my life should be, and as you’re gone it hasn’t gone how it should.  You did all you could to save me from myself, and all I ever wanted to do was make you proud.  You can do no more for me now, but promise me that you won’t make my mistakes.  Don’t burn your life down.
Be happy.

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