...But You Never Said It Back
I don't know why so much of my fictional writing or short pieces seem to go back to youth but I guess that inner awkward teenage kid still has an echo chamber somewhere inside my 30-something self. This one has a rhythm to it that I like. Not my best work but good enough to post. Enjoy...
I picked a song from the list at the DJ's table, something slow and from the heart, long enough to put my arms around you but not so long as to look too obvious. I took a pass on "Open Arms" and by the night's end Madonna's "Crazy For You" had a whole new meaning I never thought it'd have.
I tried to be so different on a Friday night with three plastic cups and three strips of paper in each. "Thai", "Italian", and "Burgers and Shakes" in the Red Cup; "Mini-Golf", "Bowling", and "Ice Skating" in the Blue Cup. The Green Cup was a bit of a trick, as every strip of paper said "Stargazing". You picked from each cup with a smile, and you didn't seem to mind when we kissed while sitting on the tailgate under a mix of the heavens and suburbia.
I selected every song with a mix of panic, thought, and instinct, never knowing which emotion went with what. Maybe Otis Redding was the thought, maybe The Cure was instinct, and maybe the obscurity from Big Star was the panic. Two sides divided into as close to 30 minutes each as I could do the math for, and somehow the pieces seemed to fit. You called me three quarters of the way through Side B. I could hear it in the background. You sounded like something I always wanted to hear.
I told you everything I never thought I'd say, even when I knew it might be too much. I let you in. And even though I'm sure you wrote it all off as me being an open book, the truth is that none of it was that easy. None of it was what I planned to say, but what I was inspired to say. I thought of all those nights as some connection, like the seamless stream of those mix tape songs, or a connect-the-dots to the night sky, summoned by a twist of fate that brought me to a dance I never planned to go to until the very last minute.
I told you that I loved you...
...but you never said it back.
You never really told me anything except what you needed to to get by. You never really opened up. I thought that was just your way and that little by little I'd see beneath the surface and then one night you'd tell me. I figured it could happen at any given moment, really. Maybe while we sat in the front seat listening to the radio or to that tape. Maybe on the tailgate some Saturday, or noodles with just the right amount of peanut sauce you dribbled on your cheek from when you laughed. You laughed a lot and I still don't know why.
I never knew which song was your favorite or if you knew that The Beatles song -- 3rd song in on Side B -- was the one I wanted you to really notice. You said you were going to make me something, maybe not a mix tape but something of your own creation. I kept waiting for a while to find out what it might be. Maybe a picture, maybe something in a frame, or even something you bought at the mall with your babysitting money. I wouldn't have cared if it lacked originality. It would have been enough just to be from you. But then I stopped waiting and thought instead of what I could put on the next tape for you.
I said I would love it if you planned the next night out, even after you warned me that nothing could top the fun of the Red cup, the Blue cup, and the Green cup. I believed you when you said it was the best 1st date ever, and when you vowed to give the next one your best shot. I figured after the slip of paper you chose from the Blue cup revealed ice skating that you never knew bowling and mini-golf had been on the other slips, and maybe you'd choose one of those for the next weekend. We went to a movie instead, one that I picked right down to the start time, because you said you couldn't think of anything.
Now I wish I'd looked over the DJ's list a bit closer, maybe picked a shorter song that gave us less time to try to talk to one another over the music. I wish I hadn't been talked into going in by my friends, and that I hadn't seen you by the side door. I'd never been so brave in all my life and now I wonder where it came from, and why I couldn't have stayed scared one night longer, and found myself someplace else on Saturday. There might have been someone else downtown that next night, or behind me in a classroom on Monday, or somewhere... anywhere... dreaming of something that was never really meant to be.
For the record, I did live this one a bit. :)
J
I picked a song from the list at the DJ's table, something slow and from the heart, long enough to put my arms around you but not so long as to look too obvious. I took a pass on "Open Arms" and by the night's end Madonna's "Crazy For You" had a whole new meaning I never thought it'd have.
I tried to be so different on a Friday night with three plastic cups and three strips of paper in each. "Thai", "Italian", and "Burgers and Shakes" in the Red Cup; "Mini-Golf", "Bowling", and "Ice Skating" in the Blue Cup. The Green Cup was a bit of a trick, as every strip of paper said "Stargazing". You picked from each cup with a smile, and you didn't seem to mind when we kissed while sitting on the tailgate under a mix of the heavens and suburbia.
I selected every song with a mix of panic, thought, and instinct, never knowing which emotion went with what. Maybe Otis Redding was the thought, maybe The Cure was instinct, and maybe the obscurity from Big Star was the panic. Two sides divided into as close to 30 minutes each as I could do the math for, and somehow the pieces seemed to fit. You called me three quarters of the way through Side B. I could hear it in the background. You sounded like something I always wanted to hear.
I told you everything I never thought I'd say, even when I knew it might be too much. I let you in. And even though I'm sure you wrote it all off as me being an open book, the truth is that none of it was that easy. None of it was what I planned to say, but what I was inspired to say. I thought of all those nights as some connection, like the seamless stream of those mix tape songs, or a connect-the-dots to the night sky, summoned by a twist of fate that brought me to a dance I never planned to go to until the very last minute.
I told you that I loved you...
...but you never said it back.
You never really told me anything except what you needed to to get by. You never really opened up. I thought that was just your way and that little by little I'd see beneath the surface and then one night you'd tell me. I figured it could happen at any given moment, really. Maybe while we sat in the front seat listening to the radio or to that tape. Maybe on the tailgate some Saturday, or noodles with just the right amount of peanut sauce you dribbled on your cheek from when you laughed. You laughed a lot and I still don't know why.
I never knew which song was your favorite or if you knew that The Beatles song -- 3rd song in on Side B -- was the one I wanted you to really notice. You said you were going to make me something, maybe not a mix tape but something of your own creation. I kept waiting for a while to find out what it might be. Maybe a picture, maybe something in a frame, or even something you bought at the mall with your babysitting money. I wouldn't have cared if it lacked originality. It would have been enough just to be from you. But then I stopped waiting and thought instead of what I could put on the next tape for you.
I said I would love it if you planned the next night out, even after you warned me that nothing could top the fun of the Red cup, the Blue cup, and the Green cup. I believed you when you said it was the best 1st date ever, and when you vowed to give the next one your best shot. I figured after the slip of paper you chose from the Blue cup revealed ice skating that you never knew bowling and mini-golf had been on the other slips, and maybe you'd choose one of those for the next weekend. We went to a movie instead, one that I picked right down to the start time, because you said you couldn't think of anything.
Now I wish I'd looked over the DJ's list a bit closer, maybe picked a shorter song that gave us less time to try to talk to one another over the music. I wish I hadn't been talked into going in by my friends, and that I hadn't seen you by the side door. I'd never been so brave in all my life and now I wonder where it came from, and why I couldn't have stayed scared one night longer, and found myself someplace else on Saturday. There might have been someone else downtown that next night, or behind me in a classroom on Monday, or somewhere... anywhere... dreaming of something that was never really meant to be.
For the record, I did live this one a bit. :)
J