california

Tonight.

He was easy to talk too. Someone, I could come home too. Come home from a long day and talk about everything. He carried a charm about him, that I found myself enamored by things he would say. Every minute became easier to be around him.

Could he really be this charming? Or is it all the drinks I am consuming?

I didn’t love him. Maybe, if anything, I had tiny feelings for him. At this point, who don’t I have feelings for. I would have feelings for a lamp post, because it gave me light. But thats just who I am. I love people only to disappoint them in the end. If anything he just made me feel safe. Like I could be honest about everything without judgement. Some part of him would be familiar, as if I had felt these sentiments before. I just couldn’t pinpoint where.

“Stop looking at your phone. Everything you need is right here”

He didn’t mean it condescendingly. Some parts of it is a corny drunken slur. And yet, I believed him.

I don’t want to go home. As dark as it was at the Bar, I could have stayed here for hours. Maybe I did, I can’t remember. I found myself drinking this ache in my chest away. With every sip, I will cut you out of my heart.

Maybe not tonight.
Tonight, let’s just think of something else. Anything else.

With every sip of his beer, his words would slur into something more meaningful then the next.

I didn’t buy it at the time. At the time, I couldn’t think of anyone else but someone else. Someone I should have left in the dust of my memories. Someone I should never have brought with me in my new life here. The same person that made me check my phone dozens of times, instead of realizing “everything you need is right here”.

“That’s not what you’re looking for”
“What am I looking for then?”
“Me”

I could have kissed him right there. In my drunken haze, in this dimly lit bar. I could have.

But I didn’t.

No amount of drinks will rid the person that hurt you out of your heart. No matter how many boys you kiss, its not going to take the taste of his lips away. No matter how many times I cut myself, its never going to get him out from under my skin.

I feel stupid drowning out my sadness with someone else, thinking about someone else.

Everything I need is right here.

And I know better now.

Burbank, CA 2009

 

Do me a favor and don’t reply.

He wasn’t a character I normally liked. Then again, I fall in love with people so fast it’s almost a joke. A slight change in the weather, a smile in September; before I know it, I am hooked.

I knew it wasn’t love, it was nothing like it. He had a way of making butterflies flutter out of the dark caves of my soul, and I liked it. I had closed myself off of male attention for so long, that any attention made my heart skip a beat. The more I tried to place him, the further he would get away. I wait too long for people that don’t exist. He was no exception. When you wait too long for things to happen, you start making up stories in your mind. Maybe thats what this all was. My crazy mind getting the best of me.

I am crazy. I am absolutely crazy. I know nothing about him, but I can’t stop thinking about him.  This is how crazy people think, right? This is how it starts when your mind starts to go? I can’t stop myself. I find myself jumping right back in, after I promised myself I would keep myself 10 steps back. Here I am standing on the ledge between reality and make believe. I am a rational person. I am crazy but I am not bat-shit crazy. I know the difference between whats right and whats completely stupid/foolish/wrong for me?

Here I am standing in front of the man that could possible change my whole life. The man that ignited the spark after the years of broken solitude and sadness.

I can’t help but look at him.

Boy, is he something. It was a spark, a break in the melody that I would die to hear on constant repeat. A drum beat that kept my heart in constant motion.

I should have known better. Should have seen all the red flags, paid absolute attention to all the signs, but I didn’t. You never know who you will open yourself up too. Never know who your heart will decide gets the keeping. I am crazy to think that stupid sparks mean something. Including when everything feels one sided.

I always end up the girl in the pretty dress that cries at the end of the story. The girl that makes up all these weird scenarios of “what if” and breaks her own foolish heart in the end.

But maybe this was different.

I mean. Why else did he keep coming back?

“I just need to be alone for a while”

Of course he does. He wants to put an end to the narrative that hasn’t even started. Everybody needs to be alone for a while. But nobody really wants to be alone, right?

I feel myself screaming on the inside.

“Give me a chance. Choose me! Look at me!”

Now I am sitting in the pretty dress, wondering what I did wrong. If I did anything wrong at all. If my crazy fucked up mind got the best of my reality.

Why is it when shit starts to get real, men just want to back track. Like they weren’t hitting you up at all hours of the night. Like they weren’t asking all these personal questions, pretending to be invested. Only to need to be alone.

“You understand what I mean right? You’re alone”

Ouch.

I seem to bring that out of men. This breath of honesty that men can’t help but exhale out, and I can’t help but inhale in. He just happened to be no exception. It becomes natural for men to be so brutally honest with me, like we are the best of friends. That talking with me is like talking with one of their bros. I wonder if thats what they think of me. Just one of their bros, their friends, their buddies. After a while, I don’t know who to blame anymore. Is it my fault for being quiet about how I feel? Or their fault for assuming I am no different then they are.

Its been months since we’ve talked but I couldn’t rid him from my brain. I keep replaying the same image of us. Me the dreamer, him the realist. Me, believing that he would see through my armor. He, just feeling this need to be alone. I knew it was a lost cause. I knew deep down inside that everything was a no-go. But curiosity got the best of me. Because why are people that are not meant to be together, keep coming back together again. Even if it means nothing, why did the spark hit me like a lightening bolt?

It had to mean something.

Then the water works start to form. I become the girl I have come to know and fear and hate and just can’t stop myself from becoming. What in the fuck is wrong with me that men feel the need to be alone to find themselves. That I am some sort of stop on the way to their destiny. Are they aware that the manic-pixie dream girl died for men years ago; that we as females can be the heroes of our own story??

I don’t want to be the girl that got away.
I don’t want to be the girl you marry at the end of the day.
What in the fuck is wrong with the “right now”?

This “alone” time ends up being everyone else but me.

I start seeing images of him with someone new, every few weeks. I am not a factor in his mind until it doesn’t work out. Then like clockwork, he comes back. Maybe a second look would do the trick. Maybe, I am what they want in the long run, but just not right now. Not right away.

Meanwhile I sit here, miserable. Asking myself, what did I do wrong?

Everybody wants everybody else.
Someone prettier with their shit together.
Someone thinner.
Someone imperfectly perfect to their own liking.
Is it too much to want the same thing everyone else wants?

Seriously, why the fuck not me?

Yeah you go ahead, be by yourself.

Me too, dude. Me too.

Oakland, CA. 2013

She wrote me a letter from San Diego.

My mind is cleansing itself of the past. Which brings me to how I feel today. Reliving old conversations and revisiting old promises from years prior. Because it’s what I do best, going through the scabs and learning to live with the scars. We said one day, we would make it there. All the way to sunny San Diego. Run away from this god forsaken town, and into hideaway of the summer sun. That was always the plan. You had never been and I had been far too many times. What a great place to get away and forget anyone ever existed. Away from the judging eyes, the crazy people, and the homes that have long forgotten us. God, how I loved the idea of running in and out of trouble and escaping to the southern California sun.

I’ve never been so lost
I’ve never felt so much at home
Please write my folks and throw away my keys

That seems to be the thing lately. Running away from problems, instead of dealing with everything head on. I should have seen all the signs, instead I played with the idea. It would be better for us to run and leave this place behind. Into the coast and becoming different people. Completely opposites of who we really are. Maybe then things would be different for us. We wouldn’t feel like strangers, we wouldn’t hurt each other anymore. Maybe after you have been somewhere else, you’d be kinder to me. We’d be kinder to each other. Mirages are illusions and even your words played tricks on me. I could be easily wooed and easily persuaded, and just the same easily fooled. It was the idea of the grass being greener on the other side of the state, that I could plot and plan our escape. I was wrong and most days its hard letting go.

There’s a fear that comes before me once I reach the golden coast. Once I drive through the sandy beaches and breathe in the salty air. Sometimes I wonder what would have happened had we made it there. Had we lived in this runaway mode and left with only what we had on us. Down the western coast and into the southern regions of our escaped minds. This city is tainted for me, I could never go back. Even if it never happened, I could never return. The memory of pacts you make with forgotten people, change you completely in the end. Its mad to believe people have that hold over your reality. That they hold this nostalgic tainted feeling that ruins the present for you. I loved San Diego but all I think about is this promise of being someone else. Anyone else then who we were at that current time. I see the present and can’t help but feel lost in this sea of sand, wind, and the sun. Its not the southern coast, it’s not what I used to love. It’s not you and me and what we believed we wanted from each other.

and maybe I could live forever
If not ever I had known
that you’d be waiting here whenever I am all alone

All of that is done and over with. As the years progress, I can’t keep hiding from cities where your memories exist. I can’t keep searching for you on the streets of my mind. You are not there and you never were. I just have to accept that. Growing up means letting go and hopefully I can finally be done with these thoughts. These foolish memories of pretending that this was what I wanted in the end. We were never going and that’s a fact. One day, I’ll finally go back. One day I’ll finish writing you that letter and send it postmarked San Diego. Its then you’ll know I am not coming back with you.

4/12/2009