Post by thecrazybeautiful on Apr 4, 2008 13:19:08 GMT -6
It's more like a blog that turned into a story. By this I mean that every word is true, it's just written in a more thought-out way.
Ruined
I am never awake at midnight. I prefer sleep and dreams and the quick transfer from one day to the next. I am never awake at midnight.
But I am today.
I am awake as Tuesday turns into Wednesday. It is already 12:15 and I do not feel as if a new day has just begun. I do not feel new. I do not feel born again. I am the same person I was yesterday. I fit perfectly into the mold I've made myself. Today will not be a day of change.
I am reading a book. The main character is broken. She is broken but strong. One line in the book jumps out at me. "I can lose a lot, but I can't lose Andy." It makes me think of you. I want to write an R right before Andy. I can lose a lot, but I can't lose Randy. I want to say that out loud, but I think, somehow, I've already lost you.
I've finished reading the book. It is 12:30 now and I try to sleep. I can't. I can't get you out of my thoughts and I'm not tired anyway. I know you're still awake, so I decided to text you. I pull out my phone and type you a simple, "Hi." You respond and soon I am telling you about how the world is too much for me. About how I try to block it out with sleep. You ask for specifics knowing I can only give half answers. What about the world is too much for me? You. Or me. Or God. Or lack thereof? You tell me about acts of God. "Acts of God?" I say. "I don't see them."
You are miles away, but I feel you give up on me. I wait for your reply. The passing minutes are more like passing lifetimes. I concentrate on breathing. It doesn't work.
I hear sounds outside. Shots from the air force base. They are loud. I wish they were bombs. Bombs. Exploding. Destroying the city. Destroying everything right up to your house or mine. It would leave one of us alive. One of us lost forever. Ideally, you would stay alive. I would be lost and you would see just how much you've taken me for granted.
The phone lights up. You ask a question I could have sworn I just answered to you. This is it. The conversation is ending.
"Randy..."
"Yes?"
I stare at an empty text box. I imagine it contains the words I want to say. I love you. I want to remind you, because I still don't think you understand. I tell my fingers to type. They don't. Instead, they trace your name at the top of the screen. The backlight goes off. My fingers type now, but it's now what I want them to.
"Nevermind."
I am overwhelmed. I am ashamed at my failure. I cry. Just a little. We stop talking and I turn off my phone. It is too dark to even see it anymore, but I feel it in my hands. It is precious and I hold it close to me. I press it to my chest. I am thankful for this device that lets me contact you at any hour.
I try to sleep again. I can't. Everything is all wrong. I can't see, but that's not dark enough. I cannot get comfortable. The radio is on too loud. I can hear Rob Thomas singing through the speakers. For the first time in my life, I wish he'd just shut up.
I fumble around and find my phone again. I turn it on. I switch to the camera. I open a picture of you and study your face. It is an odd picture of you, but beautiful all the same. Two years ago, I would never have found you attractive. Now, you are the only attractive. The highest level. You beat everyone, simply because you are you.
There is a cork board on the wall across the room. I cannot see it, but there is a picture of us on it. We are smiling. Our arms are around each other. We pull each other close. There is still space between us; there is always space between us. I ruin the picture. I stop thinking about it.
I turn off my phone. I turn it on again. I look at your picture. I cannot look for too long, though. I start to feel like you’re looking back at me. Are you? Do you see me now? Do you know I’m still thinking of you?
I turn off my phone. I put it away so I’m not tempted to turn it on again. It is 2:00. I try to sleep. Again. I fail. Again. I still think of you. How you are. How you used to be. I dive into memories and hope I do not drown. I toss and turn and try to get away from you. We will see each other in a few short hours. We will go about our business, pretending nothing has happened this morning. I will still know. You will still know. And you will avoid me because I’m in this mood.
I realize that I’ve just ruined the whole day before it has even truly begun.
Ruined
I am never awake at midnight. I prefer sleep and dreams and the quick transfer from one day to the next. I am never awake at midnight.
But I am today.
I am awake as Tuesday turns into Wednesday. It is already 12:15 and I do not feel as if a new day has just begun. I do not feel new. I do not feel born again. I am the same person I was yesterday. I fit perfectly into the mold I've made myself. Today will not be a day of change.
I am reading a book. The main character is broken. She is broken but strong. One line in the book jumps out at me. "I can lose a lot, but I can't lose Andy." It makes me think of you. I want to write an R right before Andy. I can lose a lot, but I can't lose Randy. I want to say that out loud, but I think, somehow, I've already lost you.
I've finished reading the book. It is 12:30 now and I try to sleep. I can't. I can't get you out of my thoughts and I'm not tired anyway. I know you're still awake, so I decided to text you. I pull out my phone and type you a simple, "Hi." You respond and soon I am telling you about how the world is too much for me. About how I try to block it out with sleep. You ask for specifics knowing I can only give half answers. What about the world is too much for me? You. Or me. Or God. Or lack thereof? You tell me about acts of God. "Acts of God?" I say. "I don't see them."
You are miles away, but I feel you give up on me. I wait for your reply. The passing minutes are more like passing lifetimes. I concentrate on breathing. It doesn't work.
I hear sounds outside. Shots from the air force base. They are loud. I wish they were bombs. Bombs. Exploding. Destroying the city. Destroying everything right up to your house or mine. It would leave one of us alive. One of us lost forever. Ideally, you would stay alive. I would be lost and you would see just how much you've taken me for granted.
The phone lights up. You ask a question I could have sworn I just answered to you. This is it. The conversation is ending.
"Randy..."
"Yes?"
I stare at an empty text box. I imagine it contains the words I want to say. I love you. I want to remind you, because I still don't think you understand. I tell my fingers to type. They don't. Instead, they trace your name at the top of the screen. The backlight goes off. My fingers type now, but it's now what I want them to.
"Nevermind."
I am overwhelmed. I am ashamed at my failure. I cry. Just a little. We stop talking and I turn off my phone. It is too dark to even see it anymore, but I feel it in my hands. It is precious and I hold it close to me. I press it to my chest. I am thankful for this device that lets me contact you at any hour.
I try to sleep again. I can't. Everything is all wrong. I can't see, but that's not dark enough. I cannot get comfortable. The radio is on too loud. I can hear Rob Thomas singing through the speakers. For the first time in my life, I wish he'd just shut up.
I fumble around and find my phone again. I turn it on. I switch to the camera. I open a picture of you and study your face. It is an odd picture of you, but beautiful all the same. Two years ago, I would never have found you attractive. Now, you are the only attractive. The highest level. You beat everyone, simply because you are you.
There is a cork board on the wall across the room. I cannot see it, but there is a picture of us on it. We are smiling. Our arms are around each other. We pull each other close. There is still space between us; there is always space between us. I ruin the picture. I stop thinking about it.
I turn off my phone. I turn it on again. I look at your picture. I cannot look for too long, though. I start to feel like you’re looking back at me. Are you? Do you see me now? Do you know I’m still thinking of you?
I turn off my phone. I put it away so I’m not tempted to turn it on again. It is 2:00. I try to sleep. Again. I fail. Again. I still think of you. How you are. How you used to be. I dive into memories and hope I do not drown. I toss and turn and try to get away from you. We will see each other in a few short hours. We will go about our business, pretending nothing has happened this morning. I will still know. You will still know. And you will avoid me because I’m in this mood.
I realize that I’ve just ruined the whole day before it has even truly begun.
