So sick of love songs

[plural]

I had a rough dream last night
its been haunting me today

its funny
my dreams

don't function like yours
or
at least not as they've been explained
to me
by others

my dreams are either

cognitive experiences
where I work through something
checking out possible outcomes
a thought workshop

or

intensely delusional experiences
which surround me like a cloak
a cloak of purity

pure bliss
pure horror
pure joy
pure self loathing

taking me back to that moment
wrapping me in it entirely

or

stuck in the middle
strapped to a chair
reliving my past
a helpless observer
watching myself
knowing what comes next
screaming
unable to alter the course

And I'm so sick of love songs
So tired of tears
So done with wishing you were still here
Said I'm so sick of love songs so sad and slow
So why can't I turn off the radio?

this dream
was the last type

I dreamt of her
I dreamt of us

it was wonderful
it was terrible

but
it always leaves me drained
and
of late
I've been particularly

delicate

anyway

so something like this
just takes me to a place
that I really can't handle

well
thats not true
I can handle anything

that is
at my essence
who I am
someone who can handle everything

but dammit
I just don't want to anymore

I'm tired
so damn tired of being that guy

I'm tired of being perfect
I'm tired of being broken
I'm tired of being me

I don't talk about it
but
I'm worn down
exhausted

they always told me
it gets better with time

they are full of shit

every morning
it gets harder
not easier

Gotta fix that calender I have
That's marked July 15th
Because since there's no more you
There's no more anniversary
I'm so fed up with my thoughts of you
And your memory
And how every song reminds me
Of what used to be

every morning
I have to justify
why I'm still here
find a reason to get out of bed
find a reason

not to jump off a bridge
not to disappear
not to simply cease

I fantasize about being somewhere else
being someone else
being anything else

and then
my reason kicks in
and
my obligations
bring me home

my obligations
are the only reason
I'm still here

I can't escape them

I guess that is what makes me
the guy who can handle anything
because
whatever happens
my obligations come first

they are all I have left
well
that and drinking

drinking so I can unclench my heart
unclench my mind
unclench my fist

just be normal

put the past behind me
be present
be lighthearted
be fun

That's the reason I'm so sick of love songs
So tired of tears
So done with wishing you were still here
Said I'm so sick of love songs so sad and slow
So why can't I turn off the radio?

I don't have a problem with alcohol
I have a problem without alcohol

don't get me wrong
this isn't one of the twelve steps

I've checked all the symptom lists
I'm not an alcoholic
I'm just a broken man

Sure, I have an unhealthy relationship with alcohol
but so what
I have an unhealthy relationship
with myself
with you
with life

what makes alcohol so special?

that it is my drug of choice
is simply a function of convenience

well to be honest
alcohol isn't my drug of choice

it is one of them

the other is women
and mmm damn
what a drug they are

I've been celibate now
for about six weeks
which marks the longest time
I've ever gone without having sex
since I started having sex

no no no
this isn't some new thing
I just needed a break
and
I had too much woman insanity in my life
so
I took my birthday sex
enjoyed the hell out of it
and
called the game on account of rain

I've also mostly
gone without alcohol

sure
the occasional drink
but not the sort of drinking
you all know and love
the sort of drinking
I'm famous for

in fact

tonight
is the first time
since my birthday
I've even gotten remotely drunk

but don't read too much into it

I haven't sworn off women or drinking
there will be plenty of that to come

at some point anyway

right now
I'm not doing much of anything

I went over a month without shaving
(not that anyone noticed)
finally shaved last night
and
it felt good

is it strange that the act of shaving
can feel so cathartic

and I watched the newest Dexter episode
the other night
and I really identified with him
during the parts dealing with his marriage
and sharing with people

[on a side note, should I be worried that I identify with a serial killer?]

there was one scene in particular
where he is in his head
trying to open up
to share with his wife

and he's thinking in his head
about what to say
what to share
and he thinks

"Do people really do this"

I've never been completely open with anyone
save Charlie

hell I've never even been mostly open with anyone
save her

and well
I couldn't save her
I couldn't save Charlie

so what good did it do?

Leave me alone
Stupid love song
Leave me alone
Dont make me think about her smile
Or having my first child
Let it go
Turning off the radio

I can do anything
I can do everything
but I can't protect my women
but I can't save them

of course
Charlie had an advantage

she met me when I was just paranoid
before I had reason to be

she met me when I still
not pure
not innocent

but perhaps
idealistic
true

my nightmares
the events in them
most occurred after her
I didn't have as much to hide
I sure as hell had not spent as much time lying
the last fifteen years
have contained, have required
more lying than I would like

but then?
The worst I could be accused of
was being overzealous
in the defense of those I loved

so while
she didn't approve
of much of my past
there wasn't as much there

it crushes me
to imagine
what she would think
of the man I've been
of the man I've become

I don't think I could look her in the face
that I could meet her eyes
if she was here, alive, today

the only comfort I have in this regard
is the hope that maybe
in death, she can see into my heart
into my thoughts
and understand

I can only hope she knows all of it
because if I had to look into her eyes
today
I could not bring myself to admit it to her
I could not bring myself to be honest with her

so yeah

I've never been a particularly honest person

loyal
faithful
true

sure

but never particularly honest

of course
in life's most beautiful perversity
the most honest moments of my life
are those that people refuse to believe

my biggest lies pass without question
my most sincere truths are constantly doubted

and women expect me to believe them
women expect me to trust them
to open up to them

fuck that

humanity believes what it wants to believe
so I feed you want you want to hear
you don't want to see my ugliness
you don't want to taste my horror
so
I give you the pass
the easy lie
the comforting answer
because dammit I need you

I hate myself for it
but
what can I do

Isn't a large part of a relationship
giving the person you love what they want
even if they do not know it?
or
saving them from what they don't want

some may say I'm doing it wrong
and
well
they may be right
but I justify it
because I don't keep the present
[usually anyway]
[and never anything relating to the commitments of the relationship]
from anyone

just the past
just my past

that is right
it is my past
mine

they have no right to it
you have no right to it
if you press
if you insist

fuck you

it is mine
I'll share or not
tell the truth or not

what gives you the right
what gives you the right

to stand there
to judge me
to dig deeper into me

I do enough of that for both of us

why should I bother
you won't believe the truth
so why should I give it to you

so I turn to the lie
to save you
to save me
to save us

from the awkwardness of the truth
from that uncomfortable pause
from the change in the way you look at me

Cuz I'm so sick of love songs
So tired of tears
So done with wishing she was still here
Said I'm so sick of love songs so sad and slow
So why can't I turn off the radio?

my soon to be brother in law
was thinking about a less than legal business proposition
he came to me first
and I said, I wasn't interested
but as long as he was careful
and didn't let it roll back on my family
I wouldn't oppose it

so he went around
talking to people
and everywhere got the same answer

"Sorry, can't help you, you're dating [my name]'s sister"

So he went to a mutual friend of ours
and asked

"Who the hell is [my name] anyway? Why is everyone afraid of him?"

I have a past

it isn't pretty
but it also isnt who I am now

at least I hope I'm still not that guy
it could just be
that I haven't been provoked
or that
I've gotten better at dealing with things

but
especially in Seattle
I'll always be

the guy who used the hammer

so what do you want to know?

who I am?

fuck, even I don't know that

who I was?

will that really help you sleep at night?

even cute questions

where did you get that scar?

you just shouldn't ask
you just don't want to know

just stay in the present
just be here with me now
enjoy what we have
enjoy what we do
but
dont
dont
dont
dig into things

because I hate lying to you
because I hate hiding from you
because I will do it anyway

sure, I have cute answers
sure, I have quaint stories

the long scar on the inside of my right forearm

supposedly a childhood accident
isn't so quaint
isn't so cute
in truth

the three circular scars
on the inside of my left forearm
sure
I'll tell you a story
sure
I'll tell you about boys being boys
drunken foolishness

the other scars
those visible
those invisible
those that have healed
those that haven't

I'll tell you whatever story
you need to hear
anything
everything
except the truth

I am not a monster
I have been a monster
I am capable of being so again
but I choose not to

is that what you want to know?
will that help you sleep at night?

I just

don't understand
what you want from me

don't understand
how to give it to you

emotional availability
one of my ex's said to me
that I simply wasn't

I posted about it recently
saying she was right
and she was
but
I do not know what it means
what I could have done differently
how I could have been available

that I suppose
is my problem encapsulated

I know where I am
I know where I've been

I just don't know what to do about it
I don't have the tools to deal with it

sure, I can handle it
I can put in it a box
I can manage
I can survive

but fuck
it never gets better
so whats the point

all there is, is loss
I don't have anything left to do

just things left to lose
just people left to lose
just memories left to lose

I realized today
and I suppose
this more than anything
is the cause of my current state

that I can't remember the sound
of Charlies voice anymore

I used to be able to
I used to be able to

remember
recall
an auditory illusion sure
but
one I've lost

I could close my eyes
and hear her say "I love you"

I could close my eyes
and hear her say "Indeed"

and now
I can't

I lost her
and now I'm losing her memory
I'm losing the particulars
it is only the pain which hasn't faded

The craziness of my life
makes keeping ahold of possessions
difficult
and
in running away from her, from her death

I avoided things which reminded me of her
and as might be expected lost them

I've lost the records of us

the photos of our adventures
the videotape of her laughing and dancing
The tapes she made for me
her voice talking to me between the songs
telling me why she picked this song
telling me what she was thinking about

and now I'm losing the memories
not the facts
but the feelings
the tastes
the echoes of her
that let me connect to her
let me connect to us

all I have left of her
is my deteriorating memories
and a single photograph
a
photograph
she would have hated

is that what they mean
by things getting better with time
if so
fuck them

forgetting doesn't make it better
it makes it worse

fuck it

I am alone
and
I need another drink