(she will never love you like i did,i do……)

Do you know what I love? ( And please ,keep in mind that I find it difficult to say the word let alone feel it these days…)

I love in the movies when the heartbroken heroine finally sees the one who did her wrong again. Of course she is still in love with him,duh, but that is not the point.She is 10 pounds lighter with great hair and a dress that is doing all the right things and for a second she can see a flicker of remorse shimmer across his face like heat over sand .Tasty. Tossing the aforementioned great hair ( in slow motion,naturally) and tremendously lit (This is my fantasy OK?  If you don’t like it you can fuck off .Cheers. ) she says.

“That is the last time you will ever hurt me.”

Music swells and she stalks away.

Credits roll.

But its never the “last” time is it? Hurt is limitless.It’s possibilities bloody endless.Eternal.Like Cher and Cockroaches.And what the fuck do I know for movies? I don’t even own a fucking Television set. But I’m guessing that its the desire to make the pain stop and some how be,I don’t know, great on the other side of it all.

Fat Chance.

I question myself endlessly.I flog the rowing machine until my spine threatens to sue  and my focus blurs.I go so hard. Even the juice-heads who look like they could bench-press a Honda all covered in cystic acne and shit tattoos won’t meet my eye.

I don’t blame them.

I catch sight of myself in the mirror and flinch.I train fully wrapped.Like a boxer.Towel around the neck ,hoodie,,track pants. I have the hood up so all you see is the bill of my baseball cap.I look like ET.

But 6’3 and sweating like a rapist.

Ah the rowing machine.My friend,my solace.I feel like I could snap the chain and fly back into the wall. I tell myself I will stop at twenty minutes but I never do.The muscles on my back flare and push like wings ( remember wings baby? ) The timer locks me.The numbers blur and steadily climb..Slayer pounding through my brain.I go and go and go and go.I want to see how much I can take.No,that’s not it.Truthfully? I want my outside to be in equal pain with my insides. For my corpse to hurt as bad as my soul.

Sweat beads my eyelashes bringing tiny rainbow prisms and that’s good because with my head down it doesn’t look like I am crying.

Which I am.

On the bus,the train,the darkness turns windows into mirrors so I watch my face leak salt water. The memories are such bullies.Real motherfuckers.Its true,high-school never fucking ends. You get rid of the Leigha Frazer’s and the Scott and Tracy Hores ( Amazing the names you remember isn’t it?) and they get replaced by your emotions.Real classy huh?  Charmed I’m sure. Just when I think that I have all my memories trapped , boxed ,tied and caged…One will jump me on the way home and kick the shit out of me.

(We were going to take each others names. I used to practice my signature all over the place.)

I cried from Central to home.

That is no small effort on the grief dew front.That’s a long ride.

Everyone is trading me in this week,I am not stupid.Just double hurt, You would think that I would be a purple heart pinned ,short time, three tour grunt master,disaster-piece on this battle ground by now huh?. A God of war.

Sorry to disappoint but nothing here but a fat loser with a gym membership and insomnia.

(…. its the stupid stuff. the details,driving for hours going nowhere,going to the laundromat at stupid hours of the morning.the feeling of endless possibility i felt when you still loved me.the flat dry Californian sun warming my feet as i waited for you on the porch to come get me,playing guitar and singing together on shitty motel rooms,the whip of your hips and your easy sway and arm draped across you shoulder,the pictures of you on my phone that i still look at,that stop my heart from i can never stop loving you no matter what,that i dreamt of sawing through her larynx with my pig-sticker and i could feel the serration grate and grind beneath my blade,that it felt like sawing through the hose of a pool cleaner,that it made me smile,that no matter what and who you throw yourself into we will always belong to each other.I am faithful and you are holding my face between your beautiful hands that i craved,converted,lusted and desired and telling me that you were obsessed that you would never let me go.that you would never stop loving me.buried in every hole i had.and i believed you i believed in you.Instead you threw me away.)

Who are you now?

Who’s are you now?

I will miss you till the day I die,which,cannot come soon enough.

I’m green with it.