(no subject)
I'm not good at
this part
give me a kitchen and I'll cook
give me some paper and I'll write
give me a jack and coke and I'll down it in one gulp
and I swear I'll make you like me
But don't give me this
this awkward silence
this pregnant pause
eyes turned to me expectantly
Don't expect me to know what to say
what to do
I'll fuck it up somehow
some who
In small, subtle ways
and in BIG BOLD GESTURES
I'm bad really bad the worst
best friend
Part of me wants
so badly
to be normal
since I can't remember when
To cry when the normal people cry
to laugh when the normal people laugh
to not have to look
not have to ask
To know but I don't know
what to say
I don't know
what to do
Part of me wants to say
It will all get better
but I don't know if it will
I don't know if it can
All I do know is
I'll be here
for you
even if it doesn't and
I'm not a rock
I'm the empty space
between the pieces
of your broken heart
I'd love to help you mend it
or hold it together
but I'm not good
at this part
I'm really not doing so well.
Speaking of.
I’m really not doing so well.
My head hurts, my eyes bleed
It’s warmer than ever in hell
And I still haven’t found what I need.
My head hurts, my eyes bleed
and writing is no help at all.
And I still haven’t found what I need
I can’t fight the tears as they fall.
And writing is no help at all
the words twist and move in my head
I can’t fight the tears as they fall.
What’s wrong with me? I must be dead!
The words twist and move in my head
but they can’t break through walls to my heart
what’s wrong with me? I must be dead!
perhaps I was doomed from the start.
And I can’t break through walls to my heart
I rebuilt them last night in my sleep
perhaps I was doomed from the start
to harbor these secrets I keep.
I rebuilt them last night in my sleep
these walls that prevent human touch
to harbor these secrets I keep
bereaves me, I’m asking too much…
I feel so alone in this place
it must be a cold day in hell
this body bag covers my face
I’m really not doing so well.
But yeah, I'm really not doing so well. I was sitting here, thinking about les, my friend who died, and how much I miss him. An a million other things. I'm not trying to say my pain is anything like my friend Cindy's pain. She lived with him, cooked for him, talked politics with him, laughed with him, cried with him, she was his rock when he fell apart and he was her rock when she fell apart, and they were husband and wife in every way except for that stupid little piece of paper that made it official, so now when I tell people who he was I have to say he was her "boyfriend" like they went to the drive-in and the sock hop together instead of carrying each other's burdens and loving each other through thick and thin.
It doesn't seem right.
None of it is right. Cindy's been through so much in her life, so much pain and she's fought it every step of the way and kept going and slogged through shit that most of us will never have to touch and finally FINALLY FINALLY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! the world seemed to smile on her and give her a partner. I never liked that word, it used to irk me, but it's the closest thing I can say to express what Les was. He was Cindy's partner in life and love (and crime, maybe, I dunno). And now, when she finally found someone who would stand by her side in sickness and in health, for richer for poorer, to love and honor and cherish her like she deserved to be cherished, she walks into her house one day and finds him dead in the bed and her world is shattered.
I don't have words for that. There ARE NO WORDS for that. So I try to listen and be there for her and hurt with her and cry with her. Stupid little things remind me of Les every day. I was stocking the kitchen tools department at the store and I found a "jigger" (used to measure a shot of liquor) and I remembered this conversation Les and I had about my creative ways of measuring "a shot" (kind of just pouring and chugging and hoping for the best) and he said I needed a jigger and there was one in front of me and I burst into tears in the aisle of the store 'cause I'm sane like that.
It's little things like that. Walking by Subway and remembering the time after John broke up with me and I had to move out of his house (I thought I'd be living there forever because we'd be together forever because...yeah) and Les and Cindy helped me move and that night we went out for Subway and Les told me it would get better, and I told him it would take time, and he said "Well, yeah" like "well DUH" which felt AMAZING because everyone else was acting like I should have been over it by now. Les told me I was beautiful (well, that's what I tell people because that's the socially acceptable version; what he really said was "Cindy can invite you over for a threesome any time!" which I LOVED but most people would think was weird because it is weird and that's why I loved it). I loved Les because he saved my life that day...I had been planning to kill myself that first night in my new apartment because I couldn't imagine going on and living anymore without John, but Les and Cindy gave me hope that day, and so instead I went to sleep and slept through a full night for the first time in over a month, and I kept going in large part because of the strength they had given me. That's the kind of thing I can never explain to people when I want to tell them how much Les meant to me. "He was my friend's boyfriend" doesn't even come CLOSE to scratching the surface. Even "he saved my life" falls flat because people don't understand.
I loved Les. And Cindy loved Les. And Les's kids and grandkids loved Les. And he's gone. And this world is stupid and fucked up and there's nothing I can do about that but I wish I could change it for her just for a little while. The first thought that went through my mind when she called me and told me Les was dead is "God I wish i were six months from now." Because in six months, the pain will still be bad and we'll all still miss him (we'll miss him as long as we're still alive and he's still not) but in six months, it will be easier. Right now it's raw and everything hurts. The slightest breeze across the open wound hurts right now.
It's all so painful. I'm in so much pain every day physically and emotionally and I'm so tired, but Cindy, she HAD someone there with her to weather the storms with her, someone to feel the pain with her and be her rock to lean on when she needed to rest, and suddenly, he's not there anymore, and there's no question. That's worse. Way worse. So I feel sad and I miss him and we miss him and I wish it were six months from now. But it's not.
The night I found out Les died, I was on the phone with Cindy and she told me, and then after I hung up I was walking to work and I tried to find words, but I couldn't. And so I turned on my MP3 player, and this was the song that was playing. And it was the most beautiful thing I'd ever heard. I always worry that people think I'm silly or stupid for turning to Fall Out Boy so much when I need a music IV stuck into my arm so I can keep walking and keep living, but in the darkest times of my life when I'd lost my church and lost my religion and lost my friends and lost the only person I'd ever loved, Fall Out Boy was there singing and echoing in the empty spaces in my head and heart and even though I didn't realize it at the time, they were slowly but surely knitting those broken pieces back together for me so I could be whole again. their music is a part of me, and it's just so funny that my MP3 player knew that and sent me exactly what I needed to hear. I hope you'll listen to it too. It's silly, but at the same time, it breathes life back into my soul every time I hear it, and for that reason I'll love it forever.
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