Music.

I sat in the car on a way home from a very long trip. Red, blue, white, green, black blurs all flew past my rain-splattered window. I sat in kind of a trance with my iPod on as loud as it could go, thinking about how things had played out over the past couple months. Plently of things have happened, most of them horrific or upsetting. No need to rationalize it, it happened weither I like it or not. Sitting there thinking about everything and nothing was a greater comfort than my bed or my friends and family had been in a long time. To many things had happened to try and talk to anyone about it. It was slightly depressing, but music had always been my excape. Sitting there listening to my music and being able to think about things put me at peace, at least temporarily. Flipping ahead a few songs I noticed a beginning to a song I didn't remember.

"I just remembered that time at the market...."

What song was this? I didn't remember listening to it before, but then I have a habit of putting random songs on my iPod just to have them there.

"...Snuck up behind me and jumped on my shopping cart and rode down isle 5..."..

Suddenly I was drawn into this song. I was no more than two lines into it and I felt a connection with it, as if it was explaining something to me that I wasn't getting.

"...You looked behind you to smile back at me crashed into a rack of magazines, they asked us to leave..."

My heart starting to slowy ache, the pain eponentially growing as I could feel my pulse slowing to the beat of the music. My fingers and toes started to lose feeling, which I can only imagine was the result of the lack of blood flow. Subconsciously my mind was making my body actually bind with the song, truly making it absorb the meaning carefully the first time.

"...Can't remember, what went wrong last September, though I'm sure you's remind me, if you had to..."

As far as I could tell, I wasn't breathing anymore. My knees slowly came to my chest as I reclined my seat back and pulled my travel blanket up and tucked it under my chin. I crammed the pillow between the seat and the door, and I burrowed my face into it. A searing pain was forcing my eyes to close, and I knew had I opened them, I would start crying.

"... Our love was, comfortable and, so broken in."

The car jolted, as I was momentarily tossed into what was really around me. I hit the pause button, in an effort to be more aware of my surrounding. Flashing lights caught my attention, but we had already passed most the commotion. I stretched, trying to regain feeling in my fingers enough to have function. As soon as I hit the "play" button, the song flooded my body again, as if coursing through my veins.

"I sleep with this new girl, I'm stilling getting used to.
My friends all approve, say "She's gonna be good for you".
They throw me, high fives.
She says the Bible is all that she reads, and prefers that I not use profantity.
Your mouth was, so dirty.
Life of the party, and swears that she's artsy.
But you could distinguish miles from Coltrane.
Our love was comfortable and so broken in.
She's perfect, so flawless.
Or so they say, say.
She thinks I can't see the smile that she's faking.
And posed for pictures that aren't being taken.
I loved you grey sweatpants, no make up, so perfect.
Our love was comfortable and so broken in.
She's prefect, so flawless, I'm not impressed
I want you back."

I then knew the connection my subconsious was making. It was our song. Not the song we danced to or referenced constantly. I don't think you even know this song. But still, it was it. We broke up months ago, and my mind had gotten over it, but my heart hadn't.

You loved me in sweats and no make up. I curse like a sailor, and it was the day we were messing with carts at the grocery store that you told me that.

The song is: "Comfortable" by John Mayer.

Clarification.

Just some clarification for anyone who reads this:
There are and will be several names used in this blog.
None of which are actual names of anyone I know.
They are simply characters, and I might even switch up who's got what name.
So, don't try and figure who is who and what not.
These are simply stories, things that I make up for the fun of it.
And please, don't draw conclusions as to anything.

Frisbee.

I lay on the couch. That couch. The one with over sized pillows, the one with not enough room to lie down on, the one we spent our summer learning each other on. I can still smell your smell stuck in the pillows and to the side of the couch you sat on. My side has no smell, not like yours.

I lay my head down, face forward into the pillow and take a deep breath. Immediately I am thrown into memories of tossing frisbees, buttercups, fishing poles, firecrackers, and techno. All those obnoxious laughter filled memories.

“You throw it like this.”
“I can’t do this; I fail at life.”
“You most certainly do not fail at life. You know why?”
“No… wanna blow my mind and tell me?”
"Because you are the most amazing part of my life. If you fail, my life must suck."
"Hmph."

I hate this couch.

Hammocks.

In the middle of the mountains, there was a lake.



But before that....

Mike, his family, and I packed two cars up with camping supplies. Sleeping bags, tents, blankets, insect repellant, you name it we packed it. We drove a about an hour to this little white house in the middle of a gaint field surrounded by mountains, tall hay, horses, and water. It looked like a picture out of a magazine. We spent the better part of the afternoon in a canoe with fishing poles trying to catch non-existant fish, but only succeeding in getting bait all over us. While he pulled the canoe out of the water and put it up, I stalked all the miniature frogs and grabbed them up. He walked over, placed a hand on my back, picked up my fishing pole and proceeded to walk me up the hill. In the front yard overlooking the lake, stood two trees with a hammock between them.

Seeming like the right thing to do, we got into the hammock and started to watch the sun set. A beautiful, curly blonde haired, blue eyed, little girl ran over to us throwing her arms up wanting to be picked up. I pulled her up, and placed her between Mike and me. We played with her, amusing her with blades of grass, bugs, stories. She eventually grew tired and fell asleep. Afraid of waking her, Mike and I decided to stay put and talk. I gently tucked a loose curl behind the little girl's ear and watched her sleep.

"I love little kids... I can't wait until I have kids of my own."
"Kids of our own."
"What?"
"You know, after we get married."
"Get married?"
"After college... We'll have a beautiful daughter; she'll look just like you."

Mike looked at me with such sincerity it made my eyes water. Never in my life had someone been so serious about something like that. It was years away. Maybe even a decade away. Too many variables had to be added in to come to that conculsion. But he genuinely meant it.

"I don't think I'll love someone as much as I love you until I get married."
"That's going against what you just said."
"Well, if you and I don't get married, that's what is going to happen."
"Yea, yea. You'll love other people."
"Let's get engaged."
"Love, no. Let's make it through a couple more years before we do that."

The little girl woke up, looking around as if she didn't recognize her own front yard. She stood up, smiled, and ran playfully off to find her puppy. We watched her go, then settled back to watch the sun start to fade behind the mountains. The raincloud above us broke, causing rain to fall all around us. Luckily the trees that held the hammock where very dense with leaves, which kept u safe from the rather large droplets. Mike pulled me closer, and ran his hand up and down my arm.

"I love you; you'll never know how much."

On the inside (Pt. 2)

In the time we spent staring at each other, I never felt so connected with another person. I studied his face, memorizing every minute detail. He has one dimple in his left cheek, freckles so light you wouldn't notice them at first glance, eyes that change from a warm hazel around the pupil to a light green to the purest blue. There was a wrinkle in between his eyebrows from furrowing them so often. The way his eyes softened and almost opened up to me still sends chills down my spine.

"You really don't have to worry about it."
"But what if I want to?"
"You don't. It had nothing to do with you; I didn't even know you."
"But I understand."

I'll never know what was going through his mind or what he saw when he looked at me. What I do know is that the conversation we had is one I'll never forget. As I went to sit next to him, I watched his body language change. It went from one of tense, worriedness to relaxed. I sat next to him, gently stratching the top of his hand, he leaned over and kissed me. Nohthing special, just on the cheek. He brushed my hair behind my ear and went back to staring across the room at the chair I previously sat in. I looked from his face to his hand to the floor repeatedly, trying to understand and figure out what just happened.

"Chris..."
"I know."
"....Then...."
"No idea."

We looked each other square in the eye. It was an immediate understanding, he knew what I wanted and I knew what he needed.

"It can't go like this. It just can't."
"It'll be okay, don't worry."
"No, I can't do this."
"Hey, listen to me. It'll be okay."

He stood up, looking down at me. Slowly he turned his back to me and started up the stairs. I see the lights go off and hear the door open and close.

The next thing I know I'm grabbing my jacket and running out the door.

As I lie in my bed it comes to my attention that my phone is lighting up every minute or so. I grab it and flip it open, then stop dead.

“I just… can’t.”

On the inside (Pt. 1)

Walking past the dew covered car my breaths start to become shaky. The deep breaths I took only reassured me that my nerves are really gut feelings. I bent down and quickly grab the key hidden under the mat. I stood up and looked at the key and then the doorknob. I zoned out, noticing the insignificant details of the night. The air was damp, and smelled like recently cut grass. A dim light in the corner of my eye brought me back to the porch. Not knowing what I would walk in to find, I shoved the key in the lock and turned.

“Hello?”
“…I can’t believe I’m doing this.”
“You and me both.”

He stood there mostly hidden by the darkness. I entered the living room, looking around, taking in the scene. Two couches, a couple chairs, a television, his gaming system, game cases and more halfway eaten sandwiches than there ever needed to be. Obviously no one cared how he kept his space. He led me down into the basement, and took a seat on the couch. I chose the chair directly across from him and pulled my knees to my chest and wrap my arms around them. We sit staring at each other for the better part of an hour. I slowly stand up and walk over to him. I nimbly sit down and take his hand. It was then that I understood him. No words needed to be spoken, no explanations needed. Just feeding off each other’s energy was enough to sustain us.
A conversation started ranging from our extreme dislikes to what we loved, experiences that made us stronger, when we felt the most vulnerable. He promised me the things he said I wouldn’t understand for years to come, but one day it would all come crashing down upon me like some great epiphany. Learn from his mistakes, come to him when I needed help, to trust him.

The next thing I know I’m grabbing my jacket and running out the door.



As I lie in my bed it comes to my attention that my phone is lighting up every minute or so. I grab it and flip it open, then stop dead.

“I just… can’t.”

One of the decisions.

"Are you drunk?"
"I might be."
"Then I'm going to disregard everything you're saying."
"No, I know what I'm saying, and I mean it."
"You can't, you're drunk."
"I said I might be, and I know what I'm saying."
"The things you're saying shouldn't be coming from you. You know that."
"I KNOW what I'm saying, I mean them and they're true. Trust me."
"Then prove it."



An hour later I'm sitting in bed not watching, but staring at the television. My cell phone vibrates off my pillow flashing lights and displaying "1 New Message - Chris". My heart skips a beat. I feel the blood rush to my face and hands as I stare at the phone. The screen disappears, but the light is still flashing. Red, green, orange, red, green, orange. I reach for the phone praying to whatever higher power there is that it says what I want it to say. I flip the phone open rereading the prompt telling me I have a new message. I contemplate hitting the review button. I shut the phone, clinging to the railing as I slowly walk myself down the stairs. I make it to the bottom and collapse on the last stair. Staring blankly at the wall, I realize I need to read it. I reopen the phone, click the button, and am instantly paralyzed.

"I'll be home in 15 minutes. I'll prove it."

This was ten minutes ago. I my mind races about the same speed I do around my room throwing myself together trying to look like I didn't care about how I looked. As I stop to take a breath I grab my hair, look around franticly wondering what the hell I'm about to do. I make my way back to the stairs I just collapsed on. I ponder whether or not the next climb would be one of my better decisions.

I climb them, feeling as though I'm climbing Mount Everest. I pull on my jacket, slip on my shoes, and walk calmly out the front door. I make it to his front porch before I actually understand what I'm about to do.

Two hours later I walk out of his house, phyiscally and emotionally the same person I went in as.

Mentally, I'll never be the same.

The beginning.

I sat there, eagerly watching out the window while carefully balancing on the sill. The rain fell steadily as I ran my hand down the window. The fifteen minute wait felt as though it was taking hours. I watched the headlights slowly round the corner and fall down the hill, casting an almost eerie light over the glistening grass. The blinker cuts on, a small black car pulls into the drive. I sit and wait a moment, watching the person in the car collecting themself and stare blankly into the night. The car shuts off, I see them take a deep breath, the door opens, and there he stands.
"Are you sure you're okay with this?"
"Can you honestly say that you love me?"
"I can."
"Then, yes. I've never been so certain."
"As long as you feel comfortable."
"Love, I've never been so comfortable with anyone in my life."

A year later, I sit balancing myself in the same sill, looking out the same window. I watch several cars round the same corner, fall down the hill and emitt an evenly dispersed light over the road, banks, and grass. I realize now that when I said I had never been so comfortable with someone in my life, I honestly meant it. Not only I was comfortable in the sense that I was sure you were the one, the one that was different, the one that was supposed to complete me; I was comfortable living day to day knowing that when I started to feel lonely you would be right there. There's been something missing for the better portion of the past 6 months. It's like a puzzle that has lost one of it's pieces.



Today, I threw the puzzle away.