If I didn't say it, well I'd still have felt it...where's the sense in that?
Hearts break.
Friendships die.
Eras end.
But love?
It stays. Like the most torturous creature ever to exist, dangling you above a pit of spikes and then one of cotton candy colored clouds, never allowing you to know which it will drop you into.
*
I was somewhere in my twenties when we met. Beer soaked years and countless meetings in the same place and with the same nerves have kept the exact age and date obscure.
I nearly fell all over myself trying to please you, and hey, look, that hasn’t changed. Even now as I’m heading into Philly to see you at your usual venue, I’m staring into my eyes in the mirror at every red light, checking the skin for imperfections, the lips for crud, below the nostrils and chin for hair. Gotta look good for you; man, even Missy didn’t get this much care.
I brush off my jeans when I step out of the Lambo and square my shoulders to make them look broader, make myself look more impressive. I know you don’t give a shit, but I keep hoping that someday I’ll look good enough for you to take some notice. I’m even alone tonight, putting myself on display with no distractions from my crazy crew or drunken antics from any of us.
I step backstage just as your voice announces the last song, and I can’t help but whistle at you. I’ll blow it off as a joke if it freaks you out, or flirt if we’re having one of those days. You turn to look at me and my eyes go wide as I realize I didn’t get the chance to check my hair. What if it’s all messy? It’s clean, I did that much, but I don’t know my way ‘round styling or anything.
While you croon the second chorus to your slow, melancholy tune, I beeline to the bathroom and fix the brown mess on my head to halfway decent, stuffing my beanie in the pocket of my coat and nodding at myself. This is as good as it’s going to get; hopefully tonight’ll be the one where it’s enough.
The show is done by the time I’m done with my little primping session and I mutter a “Fuck off”, when Mige calls me on just what I was doing, “dolling myself all up” for you.
You nudge me and laugh at me good-naturedly when I blush at your teasing remark. “C’mon, BamBam, sit down and have yourself a Brewskie. Enjoy one for me since I can’t anymore.” Your eyes sparkle when you say that, even though you and I both know you wouldn’t touch alcohol for anything anymore.
I need one, though. Liquid courage, and it’s never more prominent than when I’m around you. I uncap it with my shirt wrapped under my fingers and swig a long gulp of amber bubbles, letting out a belch just to hear you laugh that hiccupping chuckle. “Good beer,” I grunt, because it’s expected and because you’ll smile.
“Very attractive, Bam,” you say with another chuckle, ruffling my so-carefully-presented hair. “I bet the women spread ‘em right there when you show them your charming physical symphony.”
Just to go along with your joke, I wink at you and let rip an equally gross fart. Lily, nearest to us, gags and moves at least a foot away. You’re immune though. You do live with a bunch of guys on a bus for many months at a time, after all. You just crow, “Fantastic!” and enjoy a good laugh at your friends’ expense.
I test the waters with a flirty smile and a low whisper. “It is? Does that mean you’re gonna spread ‘em?”
When the sparkle in your eyes dies, I realize it’s not one of those nights. I drink another long swallow of liquid courage so I don’t crack under the pressure of your calculating stare and shrug as you tilt your head in question. My eyes stay dull, my face determinedly passive, until you finally shrug in response and lean back on the couch next to me, relaxed again by the thought that I just must have drank a lot before coming here.
The truth is I rarely drink before I come to see you. Not lately, anyway. Now that you’re sober and you can remember everything, I want to be able to too. I want to make sure I don’t say or do anything too stupid in front of you. It may be my nature, but I would go to whatever lengths I have to not to show it to you.
“How’s things?” you ask, twiddling the cap to my beer bottle between your fingers and enrapturing me with the motion, not that you notice.
My eyes fall from your graceful hand to my beer bottle and I drink some more before shrugging once more, the general signal to accompany my somber, “Fine.” That’s all things ever are, since Missy left, MTV dumped me, and skating is really all I have. I barely have you anymore.
You make a hum of low disapproval as you flick my cap up with your thumb and catch it in your hand. Sometimes I wonder if you know how beautiful it is when you do cool things like that, stupid things I’ve worked my whole life on and can’t even do.
“I think we’ll have to work to get more than fine for you someday soon, BamBam.” You insist in a deep voice, turning your concentration to the cap again as you fling it with two fingers at the side of Mige’s head and laugh at his finger in lieu of a reply.
I chuckle, a hint of bitterness darkening the sound though I do my best to stay light and sweet most of the time. “Yeah, how you gonna do that? Buy me a puppy?”
Your eyes startle me into silence. “Is a puppy what you really want, sweetheart?” you say too sweetly, and I have this sharp, unnerving feeling that you know exactly what I want.
I shake my head and quickly drain the rest of my beer, swallowing nervously and looking away from you.
“Well, then, of course I’m not going to get a puppy.” You affirm, gently rubbing a hand down my arm.
I look up, confused. “What then?” I would never dare hope to get something as valuable as you. Friendship is pressing my luck as it is.
You chuckle and poke me gently in the head. “I don’t know, maybe a gerbil? I think you’d kill a puppy from neglect,” you tease.
I sigh with what should be relief, but tastes and sounds more like disappointment. The moment is done, dead, and gone, and practically never existed in the first place.
You rest your head on the back of the couch and I stare at my hands.
Sometimes you can be the most confusing thing ever.
Even more torturous than the invisible love I have for you.
***
This is very near and dear to my heart. Be gentle.
Chocolate and kisses to anybody who knows where my heading comes from!
Plain kisses to everybody who comments!