the pains of being pure at heart

there's nothing really left to say. i'm writing for the first time in months so that's something. still tortured, no worries there. irony is my closest friend. i wrote kelly for the first time in a few hours tonight. i said hi and she said brb. i was going to ask her to cheer me up. i don't wonder why. who else is there? meg went to sleep. danielle? hell, we've never spoken online and it's for the best. i texted her yesterday or the day before about her grandfather and she never wrote back. everyone else? we're hardly friends. kelly is all i have and she is far away. she's all i have and she isn't even mine.

i have told her before how we are cyclical. i never really explained. how i grow used to her, grow close to her, grow happier with the two of us (like puzzle pieces), until one day she will mention dave and cut off the lights. dave. how he makes her really very happy. how hard it is to be apart from him. i won't ever meet dave. he has caused me more personal and immediate and heartfelt pain than anyone else on earth. more than hitler. more than hussein. more than anyone. i am reminded of what i certainly already know. that i'm second choice to everyone outside my family that i hold dearest. the consolation idea that it once was me she wanted more than anyone else. the following knowledge that over the summer, dave took her from me. that i never had a chance and probably never will.

more than anything, it feels like i've been fooled. an immediate shame and embarrassment at finding myself caught again, so unaware. lured into the same trap. found with my heart on my sleeve after i'd promised myself to be guarded, once and for all, same as always.

i thought it would be over by now. that i'd be strong enough to be friends. that just maybe i wouldn't care anymore. i don't particularly understand why she is still so special to me, why i still love her too much. i can't leave. if i left, who would there be?

even as i write, i'm auditing a mix to send her. it's wholly inspired by the deep-reaching effect she's had on me. it's nearly a tribute. anything for irony.

a month or so ago i was taking night pictures of the stars on the porch when i thought about light writing. i'd never tried it. it had been a while since i'd spoken to her then and i didn't know what else to write so i tried over and over and over writing with a keychain led, in the dark, in front of my camera.

"fstop i miss you"

"you are wonderful"

"good luck in nyc"

i will mail prints of those with the mix. i don't know what else to do with them. i think they will make her happy, though. that still matters to me. it's almost like if i make her happy enough i'll win her over. these thoughts taste like hemlock.

still, it feels good to write about it. i feel too guilty most of the time to talk to her about anything of the sort. i don't really want to snow on her parade. certainly she takes some of the blame - honest or not, she does have a tendency to lead me on - but mostly i just curse my luck. i'm probably a broken record anyway.

"if you go your own way, i will go my own way and we'll never speak of this again."

...

a few weeks ago i climbed into the truck and backed out of the driveway, headed to the gym. i noticed, at the back end of a three point turn, there was a bug on my windshield. a little fellow with black legs, shaped like a raindrop or the rear fin of an avant-garde 1930's car. i watched him, thinking he must fly away any second. he never did. i drove off down our street and he stuck there. i turned onto the roadway and crept up to 50 and he stayed glued to the windshield. i was becoming enamored with him. when i stopped at the first light, he started walking horizontally across the glass. i started again and he paused, realigned himself facing the rushing wind, and stayed planted.

i thought this was pretty clever. he'd certainly get blown off facing any other direction. i was pulling for him. at lights he'd walk about a bit before finally facing the wind again when i started off. i probably spent far too much time focused on him instead of the road. i wished he'd never leave. finally, i was pulling into the parking lot of the gym when he took off.

godspeed, little buddy. i'll miss you.