wait,
they don't love you like I love you
Out of every song, this is the one you played before you walked out my room almost one month ago.
"See you later, kid." I felt so fragile as you said this and the song played. The front door slammed shut.
I started collapsing into myself, like my ribs were caving in and my chest was being compressed under an immense amount of pressure. The song kept playing though, and I breathed in deeply as I listened to it's lyrics.
made off, don't stray
my kind's your kindi'll stay the same
pack up, don't stray
oh, stay stay stay
This is the one thing that I didn't have to read into to understand. I didn't overanalyze it, it just immediately made sense. The song said everything you couldn't tell me. One month later, I'm not so sure if that's true anymore.
The idea of what once was is now the idea of what never happened.
* * * * *
It started just like any other night.
Madison and I driving to the boys house to meet Danielle.
Smoking, drinking, and some socializing before heading out for the night.
Playing with Claude.
Reece taking embarrassing, unattractive photos.
Conrad and Richie playing music.
It all felt very familiar and I felt very comfortable with Madison next to me as always. I held onto her a lot throughout the night- we were going to be separated for two weeks and tonight was the celebration.
Mars Pub was filled with the usual regulars when we walked in. Melissa's friendly smile could be seen from behind the bar.
Throughout the beginning of the night there was a lot of cheap beer drinking, random conversations, and chain smoking. Pictures were being taken, memories and moments were being documented, and everyone had a smile on their face. I swallowed the nausea that had been chasing me all day since you called and kept drinking, kept pushing it away.
Every effort, all of it, came crashing down when I walked back in from out back. I saw her sister. And then I saw her. And then I saw you. Connecting the dots had never been easier as I saw the horrified and disgusted looks my friends were exchanging.
My friends. I was surrounded by them. I was protected. I was in a safe zone.
I leaned into Conrad. "That's him." I pointed at a stranger in a V-neck shirt, yellow shorts, and boat shoes.
"Do you wanna like, smooch? We could make him mad," he smiled and laughed a little. I laughed hard, hysterical, and did my best to keep my eyes forward and back turned.
Why didn't I say yes?
"Just stand right here for a few minutes." I tried to sound calm, but my stomach was doing flip flops, the bile slowly creeping up. He stood next to me like I asked looking concerned. It was the last call. I chugged my beer and went to the bathroom. Why do you always make me throw up?
"This never happened," I said drunkenly as I ran into my teacher outside the bathroom door. He saw everything, watched it unfold and climax and end.
In the car ride home, I felt strange. I was calm, but part of me wanted to punch something really hard. I wanted to watch something break down and explode. Crash and burn.
We stop at a red light and Conrad turns to me. I know it was probably like looking into a mirror.
"Fuck em."
I couldn't have said it any better.
