AN EMPTY VICTORY
I heard from the ex on Sunday. She called under the guise of looking for a part to her pressure cooker [which I took to her eight months ago. She 'found' it during the conversation, of course.] It was a pleasant, if utterly meaningless, conversation.
Conversations are so interesting when both parties know that one party fucked up things, badly, to the point of no return. And I have the empty satisfaction of knowing that the one who fucked up is not me.
Isn't it funny how songs find you when it is their time to ? I've been hearing this on the radio in a friends' car for the last few months-----and kept looking on Black Crowes/Chris Robinson records for it. Except: it's not them. [Chris Robinson should sue for Grand Theft Style. :) ] I mentioned it to a co-worker today, and he found it in a few minutes.
I bought it after work. I should have written it. I wish I had. And I shouldn't listen to songs like this when I have a sinus infection with three weeks of antibiotics ahead of me. :)
Tell me did you sail across the sun
Did you make it to the Milky Way to see the lights all faded
And that heaven is overrated
Tell me, did you fall for a shooting star
One without a permanent scar
And did you miss me while you were looking at yourself out there
Tell me did the wind sweep you off your feet
Did you finally get the chance to dance along the light of day
And head back to the Milky Way
And tell me, did Venus blow your mind
Was it everything you wanted to find
And did you miss me while you were looking for yourself out there
---Train, "Drops of Jupiter"