The perfect Reply
My favorite year may well have been 2004. Well it was My Favorite Year, but
I took it as more than a stage and some songs and me in a semi-proficient
acting role. I still have that tattered, red, skinny little tie Mama Langley
picked out for me. And I still have memories of that costume room. There was
always that one girl who I wanted to do my makeup, help me fix my tight
fucking pants, share a laugh when I wanted to escape the crazy choir kids,
and for god's sake! Keep me away from that crazy red headed girl!
Yeah, you have always made me smile and I didn't care enough back then.
There I was with my Michigan acceptance letter. I figured 300 miles was
enough to start over. No turning back. The past is over. It was fun, it was
cool, but it's done. I'm in college now.
Except you always kept me looking over my shoulder. The one thing that maybe
I should've packed for the ride. 3 years of question marks and magnetic lips
can't just be for fun or benefits or something buddies? Can it?
I could go list a few analogies I've pondered over the last week or so, but
I'll spare you nonsensical food likenesses. To address yours, is the perfect
world really on the other side? I can't even fathom my perfect world
currently. I mean there's probably a microphone over yonder and some high
rise buildings. NYDCHI can probably be cut into two or three letters and
stamped on my pefect 21 year old soon-to-be-yuppie world, but who knows?
So I guess my point is: let's hold hands every so often and peer through
that doors eyelet together, enjoying the side we're on now. As indescribable
as the situation is, let's walk away from that door and go cuddle on a bed
somewhere else in the house. I don't think there is any guilt, shame, anger
or longing in that. And besides, maybe we'll figure out how to pick that
lock in the future.
See you tomorrow,
Pat
I think we will someday pick that lock.
Someday.
For now, it's a waiting game.
I'll keep living my life.
And so will he.
And things will go on as if nothing has changed at all.
Because, let's face it, nothing has changed.
I took it as more than a stage and some songs and me in a semi-proficient
acting role. I still have that tattered, red, skinny little tie Mama Langley
picked out for me. And I still have memories of that costume room. There was
always that one girl who I wanted to do my makeup, help me fix my tight
fucking pants, share a laugh when I wanted to escape the crazy choir kids,
and for god's sake! Keep me away from that crazy red headed girl!
Yeah, you have always made me smile and I didn't care enough back then.
There I was with my Michigan acceptance letter. I figured 300 miles was
enough to start over. No turning back. The past is over. It was fun, it was
cool, but it's done. I'm in college now.
Except you always kept me looking over my shoulder. The one thing that maybe
I should've packed for the ride. 3 years of question marks and magnetic lips
can't just be for fun or benefits or something buddies? Can it?
I could go list a few analogies I've pondered over the last week or so, but
I'll spare you nonsensical food likenesses. To address yours, is the perfect
world really on the other side? I can't even fathom my perfect world
currently. I mean there's probably a microphone over yonder and some high
rise buildings. NYDCHI can probably be cut into two or three letters and
stamped on my pefect 21 year old soon-to-be-yuppie world, but who knows?
So I guess my point is: let's hold hands every so often and peer through
that doors eyelet together, enjoying the side we're on now. As indescribable
as the situation is, let's walk away from that door and go cuddle on a bed
somewhere else in the house. I don't think there is any guilt, shame, anger
or longing in that. And besides, maybe we'll figure out how to pick that
lock in the future.
See you tomorrow,
Pat
I think we will someday pick that lock.
Someday.
For now, it's a waiting game.
I'll keep living my life.
And so will he.
And things will go on as if nothing has changed at all.
Because, let's face it, nothing has changed.