hold me like before; hold me like you used to

i like it when we're ironic. well, i don't really. but in a really smug way i do look up to the sky and shake a figurative fist for a moment. i like it when titles are ironic. no, that's a lie.

you don't move me anymore and i'm glad that you don't. no, that's a lie. yeah, you do. still. somehow. like when our song came on in the car and i turned onto the dead end street near the lake that i like because i didn't want it to be playing when i got to burger king because that would culturally poison it. and at the end of the road they were building a house on the empty lot that i like to look through to see the lake. and the trees were green anyway so i couldn't see much. but i pulled my phone out and tried to write you one line but couldn't decide which one. so i drove around the circle and back to the road before deciding and i texted you while cruising back out of the road and you didn't write me back until later. and you said you'd just listened to that song and smiley face but i don't know if you still associate it with me or not because i didn't ask.

i looked over when i got to the bottom of the hill where i used to get the biscuits in the morning with my dad. over at the passenger's seat of my car. it wasn't empty because my three cd holders were there and the little book where i keep more. but for maybe the first time i saw the space you would occupy if you were there. and it existed but you didn't so it was all this negative space and you should have been there. it was really unbalanced with just me. it's so strange to imagine you as a real physical person, haha. i often think of you there, semi-spiritually. like you could just ride with me and look at me and see how i drive and where i go and what i listen to and how i sing when i'm alone. but i never noticed all the space that you aren't like that.

and what i really want, right now, is to just lay on the floor with you. these dumb movies do that to me sometimes. i just want to hug you so close and tight that we melt together and are indistinguishable. like siamese twins. can't separate us or our heart will break.

hold me like before; hold me like you used to

i don't know how close we ever were. i mean in a real, empirical way. did we ever bump into each other? that one time you were around. i remember i played pong with marie because she liked me back then. i was probably real awkward about it too. that night is probably the only event from college that i can remember and can't find a single picture of. that's ironic. if anything is ironic, it's that, knowing us. did we ever hug or does it just feel like we did? have we only hugged over texts because that's a letdown. that's less than hoped for. i won't say less than we deserve because that implies that you deserve just me but i won't be self-deprecating now. did we ever speak, personally? did our eyes ever meet? it was only that once, how much could we have accomplished at all? still, you're missing tonight and that's all that matters. anytime i need you. isn't that just the way? too many goddamn questions tonight.

i should have other things to worry about than musing on a girl i met once. god, sounds so ridiculous when i tell the truth like that. just the facts. i should be worried about the cancer. i've thought about that too much, though. (i don't even know that i have cancer, just guessing. like all the diabetes speculation of years past.)

i hate how my mind always skips and hops about from i want to i want to i want and never from i have to i have to i have. i guess there are more lily pads of one sort than the other is all.

...

like so many aurelianos. i had a phrase floating around in my head earlier that i liked a lot. i think it had to do with being lonely or solitary. wait, no. it's this spot on my shirt. see, there's this dark grey spot, bullet-sized, on the right shoulder of my shirt. i think it got there while i was washing my car last week. probably washing the front wheels, which are the dirtiest part. all that brake dust on the aluminum. probably some water splashed up and landed there and the spot never came out. anyway, the spot doesn't bother me but it does make me feel marked. and i worry that someone is looking for me and will find that spot and fire a bullet through me. i tossed on some jenny lewis before i started writing and leaned my head back and closed my eyes. trying to focus on the song through the glow of the screens and my brain which always wanders to things i wish not to consider while i know i'm listening to a song i want to enjoy. and at night like this i always get afraid because i can't hear and someone is breaking in the door from the porch and walking around the corner and seeing me in this vulnerable state. and he's drawing his gun and will shoot me through this damn spot on my right shoulder.

like so many aurelianos.