(no subject)
Way back when
I must have sinned
A breakdown
Profound
Beginning, end
Head-trip
re-grip what doesn't end
but I'm wishing
this amnesia would kick in
There's a certain sense that things would be better off if these damn memories would just fucking go away. For every good memory, for every pleasant evening, there's a dozen more that conjure pain, regret, and embarrassment.
Spin it all back, and several of these moments can be unwound to a particular stretch. You see, there seems to have been a pattern for a good long while. If we were feeling good, we'd turn north, walk up along the creek toward the old amusement park and the junkyard. If things were bad, we'd go south, rounding the bend, under the railroad bridge a hundred fifty feet up, and off beyond the cement plant.
That southern stretch, it sticks in my memory most profoundly.
With Kyle and David over the years, lamenting crushes we could not muster the courage to pursue, cursing our inability to interact as "normal" people. With Kelsey, confused about our own interactions, our sadness and anger toward Nicole, and our discomfort with the world at large. Later, again with Kelsey, equally confused about my own relationship with Chrissy. That empty sky, those barren trees, the rocky creekbed, the forlorn underpasses, the neglected lawns tended by massive sprinklers. All of them speak to me, some haunted song the words to which I do not know, but whose fingers reach into my chest and grasp at what they can. For all that loss, that loneliness, that negativity, I crave it, I miss it, I long for the familiarity and the beautiful emptiness.
This, you see, is a major problem with me. I love pain too much.
I must have sinned
A breakdown
Profound
Beginning, end
Head-trip
re-grip what doesn't end
but I'm wishing
this amnesia would kick in
There's a certain sense that things would be better off if these damn memories would just fucking go away. For every good memory, for every pleasant evening, there's a dozen more that conjure pain, regret, and embarrassment.
Spin it all back, and several of these moments can be unwound to a particular stretch. You see, there seems to have been a pattern for a good long while. If we were feeling good, we'd turn north, walk up along the creek toward the old amusement park and the junkyard. If things were bad, we'd go south, rounding the bend, under the railroad bridge a hundred fifty feet up, and off beyond the cement plant.
That southern stretch, it sticks in my memory most profoundly.
With Kyle and David over the years, lamenting crushes we could not muster the courage to pursue, cursing our inability to interact as "normal" people. With Kelsey, confused about our own interactions, our sadness and anger toward Nicole, and our discomfort with the world at large. Later, again with Kelsey, equally confused about my own relationship with Chrissy. That empty sky, those barren trees, the rocky creekbed, the forlorn underpasses, the neglected lawns tended by massive sprinklers. All of them speak to me, some haunted song the words to which I do not know, but whose fingers reach into my chest and grasp at what they can. For all that loss, that loneliness, that negativity, I crave it, I miss it, I long for the familiarity and the beautiful emptiness.
This, you see, is a major problem with me. I love pain too much.