i'm a rambling man __all_of_me__
I sat in a corner booth in Mae's fiddling nervously with my coffee cup. Still the best I'd ever had, but it did little to sate my mind. She had tutoring? I wondered if she'd been tutoring yesterday here, if so why wasn't she here again? My mind had been filled with all kinds of thoughts about Tara through the night. I'd even kept the fighting with my mother down to a minimum. I was as equally unimpressed with her new boyfriend as the last but I chose to ignore their fighting counting down the minutes until I could get out of there. I wasn't so sure I was going to last till friday in this death trap.
I only had one reason to stick around instead of just heading back to school and wasting some money on a cheap hotel room till the apartment was aired out. Tara. The little 12 year old girl who Donnie teased and hurt mercilessly had always haunted me in the strangest of ways. It wasn't just the guilt I felt about not being able to help her or the realization that my torment of Donnie had probably done more harm than good where she was concerned, it was her. Her eyes, the thought when I first saw her that she was some angel come to rescue me from a life unwilling to let me be a decent man. An angel rescuing me from the burden that I might turn out exactly like my father.
I could almost see the halo resting above her head in my memory of the first look. I didn't like being a hapless fool over some girl, but the thing was she wasn't just some girl. That little 12 year old had turned into a beautiful woman, shy and kempt but so much more under the surface. Remembering the way she'd stuck up to me when she'd misinterpretted what I'd said just made me smile. At least she didn't take shit from everyone.
I could judge her; not really. My father had taken his fists to me and mom more times than I could count and I never left, I waited for him to die and cried with joy when he had. I never left him, I'd resigned myself to being stuck in this shithole, so I couldn't blame her. I'd sought out the approval of my parents no matter how much they hurt me. I kept my anger in check with my dad because if he didn't take it out on me he'd take it out on her. It was love and hate and death and pain and all of it was a life I didn't think I was capable of leaving.
But I had. She could too, I had this notion that I could take her with me, it was insane, I didn't even know her. But I felt like I did, that light in her eyes, the pain she held with her I felt it all too close to myself and I wanted to take it away. Perhaps it was based on the past, the look on her face as she tripped down the stairs and the look in Donnie's eyes when he boasted about the things he'd done. I'd thought he was all talk, but now after a night of milling over every aspect of our conversation I knew Donnie was a sick bastard who didn't deserve to have the same gene's as Tara.
Woman always appeared to me to be objects at my exposal, put on this earth to attend to my pleasures, I rarely treated them with the respect their fragile hearts deserved but I only dismissed their feelings, one night stands and the Mcdonald charm had been my cosy comfort, but I'd never repeated the things I'd seen my father do. I refused to become him.
I sighed heavily with thoughts of him and looked to the door, the bell chimed above the door and I looked up, she walked in, her blonde hair flying behind her head as the wind seeped into the diner. She was beautiful; how could anyone bare to hurt her? She nervously slid into the booth across from me and I saw it, the slight redness across her cheek.
I watched her settle herself and she looked up, "What did they do?" I asked motioning to her cheek.
I only had one reason to stick around instead of just heading back to school and wasting some money on a cheap hotel room till the apartment was aired out. Tara. The little 12 year old girl who Donnie teased and hurt mercilessly had always haunted me in the strangest of ways. It wasn't just the guilt I felt about not being able to help her or the realization that my torment of Donnie had probably done more harm than good where she was concerned, it was her. Her eyes, the thought when I first saw her that she was some angel come to rescue me from a life unwilling to let me be a decent man. An angel rescuing me from the burden that I might turn out exactly like my father.
I could almost see the halo resting above her head in my memory of the first look. I didn't like being a hapless fool over some girl, but the thing was she wasn't just some girl. That little 12 year old had turned into a beautiful woman, shy and kempt but so much more under the surface. Remembering the way she'd stuck up to me when she'd misinterpretted what I'd said just made me smile. At least she didn't take shit from everyone.
I could judge her; not really. My father had taken his fists to me and mom more times than I could count and I never left, I waited for him to die and cried with joy when he had. I never left him, I'd resigned myself to being stuck in this shithole, so I couldn't blame her. I'd sought out the approval of my parents no matter how much they hurt me. I kept my anger in check with my dad because if he didn't take it out on me he'd take it out on her. It was love and hate and death and pain and all of it was a life I didn't think I was capable of leaving.
But I had. She could too, I had this notion that I could take her with me, it was insane, I didn't even know her. But I felt like I did, that light in her eyes, the pain she held with her I felt it all too close to myself and I wanted to take it away. Perhaps it was based on the past, the look on her face as she tripped down the stairs and the look in Donnie's eyes when he boasted about the things he'd done. I'd thought he was all talk, but now after a night of milling over every aspect of our conversation I knew Donnie was a sick bastard who didn't deserve to have the same gene's as Tara.
Woman always appeared to me to be objects at my exposal, put on this earth to attend to my pleasures, I rarely treated them with the respect their fragile hearts deserved but I only dismissed their feelings, one night stands and the Mcdonald charm had been my cosy comfort, but I'd never repeated the things I'd seen my father do. I refused to become him.
I sighed heavily with thoughts of him and looked to the door, the bell chimed above the door and I looked up, she walked in, her blonde hair flying behind her head as the wind seeped into the diner. She was beautiful; how could anyone bare to hurt her? She nervously slid into the booth across from me and I saw it, the slight redness across her cheek.
I watched her settle herself and she looked up, "What did they do?" I asked motioning to her cheek.