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*Song by The Cardigans* "Upon a roof below the moon
nearby a park-bench in the sun
upon the stairway to your room
Why won't you wrap your life around
those certain words I just found?"Do I regret anything? No, not really, it was nice while it lasted but nothing's forever. Do I miss it? A little... but well, I don't really want to go there, there are still some feelings that don't need rekindling if you get what I mean. There was a point when I thought we'd go back there... resurrect our diminished feelings for one another. It didn't happen - but it almost did. Almost. Not quite.
There was no kissing, or brushing of arms... No reminiscence of old times, no looks of longingness. It's all too cliche` if you think about it, it's all predictable and no one likes predictable; it's too fishy and it reminds me, at least, of horoscopes and Tarot reading... With the whole "I can show you your future", which is just another cliche`. I hate knowing things before they happen, it takes essence and meaning out of things, that way you never have to regret anything. Ever. So tell me, what would the point of that be? Just another word in the English dictionary that we no longer use...
Our entire relationship was predictable, we knew it would never last, but we didn't care. We decided to live in the moment, and when it's gone, it's gone. So now here we are, and it's over; I've burried my feelings, and it took long enough - I'm not about to go back and dig them up again. I like to remember some things... but for the most part it's dangerous to remember, because then you get stuck with a craving for their company again.
I know Sean probably feels incredibley guilty, I mean, he cheated on his wife! Why shouldn't he feel obligated to feel something? It still hurts though... a little bit... knowing that he picked her over me. Though it was predictable, it's plausible, and I shouldn't feel hurt because I knew from the start. The only thing I didn't know was how MUCH it could hurt.
All of the presumabley innocent glances we would cast each other... a hand slipped around one's lower back here, a rather extensive hug there... It adds up in the end, that little fluttering, growing, feeling inside - suddenly bashed into millions of shards: It hurts. A lot. It takes awhile, to get over someone, to get over the pain that's inflicted - but we all survive. In the end, it's just another lesson learned: Don't go for someone who's married, unless it's completely and utterly frivilous and not serious at all. At all.
He's not over me... I can tell... it's flattering and yet it's disconcerting. Because, deep down, I know I want him back... but there was no hope for us in the first place, there still isn't. As much as I think it could work out, given the chance, I'm not sure I'd want it to. I sound silly... but as few morals as I abide to, it would just feel so wrong.
Sean called me last week, said he'd found my wallet slipped between couch cusions. I'd been fretting over it for about five days, and was coming to the conclusion that I would never see my wallet again. We hadn't talked too much, since I was still upset about Sean and thought it best to retain some distance between us; but there had been a party at Sean's and I suppose that's when I lost my wallet.Arriving at his place, my only intention was to grab my wallet and thank him for finding it. However, upon Sean's opening the door, he offered me coffee, he offered me cake, he even asked me to watch Braveheart. I declined, smiling weakly; and replying with, "No... I'm in a hurry, thanks though."
"Oh!" Sean exclaimed after a breif moment of silence. "I forgot about your wallet, it's upstairs."
Following him up the yellow carpeted stairway; I brainstormed different reasons for my wallet to have hopped along upstairs, after being tightly pressed into the crevices of Sean's couch. For, the last time I checked, his couch was downstairs... as was his door, so it remained unclear to me as to why he felt the need to bring my wallet upstairs. Though, I probably overanalized it on account of the tension that was swelling out my pores.
Along the light-orange-sponged wall up the stairs, were pictures of Sean's family, his wife, his kids; all happy and picturesque. I'd always been jealous of their closeness, my family was close sure, but to have a father around was something that had been taken away too quick. I never got to take advantage of it, as minimal as it seemed to me then, it was something haunting for me now... Some past I could never take - never had taken, and was forever lost in this perpetual spinning life of mine.
His condo had a very ethereal glow about it, the colors were bright and sunny, and you'd expect someone like Minnie Mouse to live there. All cheery and quaint. Constantly surrounded by friends and family, never lonely or longing for something just a touch out of reach... like a cookie jar almost - a child stretching his arm so far... This was Sean, and I was Sean's cookie jar. Together, we would be happy: sweet and gooey, chocolate and sugar, messy and porcelaine. The after effects, however, would always be the same: an aching stomach, an empty jar. Tragic. As love can be, if it isn't destiny.
"Ya know... I think it might be downstairs..." Sean said after relentlessly tossing pillows, papers, shoes, and stuffed animals around. "My mind's been so warped lately, it's hard to concentrate."
"Sounds like you need a vacation," is what I wanted to say, what he probably wanted me to say; but I just grunted a, "hm."
"I wear your golden ring inside
suits me very fine
I wear your golden heart in mine
suits me very fine."Glancing around the room I saw what he meant, everything was disorganized and I began to loose hope in finding my wallet, once more. Then a new thought struck me: was this all an act? Just a way to get me over here, with the chance of a bite of chocolate-chip?
I glanced at my feet, dirty sneakers. They'll probably leave dried mudd on the carpet, Christine will probably blame it on their kid. Like I was never a possibility. I'm a kid too, still; I look young, I act young, I am young. But so many people treat me like I'm older, but my shoes aren't clean, I drink pop, my teeth aren't straight and I need braces. In a way, Sean has commited molestation and doesn't know it. Thinks it's just adultery, but it's more than that. Maybe I'm being childish. Grow up, Elijah, you probably just want attention.
Sean's eyes stare at my face, I see him out of the corner of my eye, how I wish he wouldn't stare. I'm a caged bear. An attraction. And all the children stare in wonder, but why can't I be them? Why can't I turn back time and relive my childhood, before I got shot and beaten by Cupid's damned arrow? I bit my tongue and look at him, his gaze shifts and he sighs.
"Christine must have brought it downstairs again." My hand moved to my mouth, and I bit down on my thumbnail. "I wish you wouldn't do that, Elijah. It's not flattering." As he walks by, his hand reaches out to slap mine. Tingles of pain and an urge for more, course through my wrist, fingers, and the back of my hand most.
Before I leave the room, I glance over at his bedside table. His ring sits. Glimmering with deception. I look away. Fear fills my heart, but I follow him downstairs.
"A backseat sofa in the dark
upon a viewpoint in our town
nearby a fountain in a park
Why won't you wrap your life around
those certain words I just found?"Naked fingers delve through couch cusions, and my pulse speeds unbearably. I need to leave, I need air - if I don't get out of here soon, I'll crack. Everything we've built between us will come crashing down and leave me a broken cookie jar. I'm scared of him now, and I can't control this. I've lost my safety and I feel like I'm vulnerable. Nowhere to hide, I can only run - but I'm forced to live through this.
My eyes leave his hands and I scan the room - there. Sitting on the TV. I walk over to it and pick it up, opening it and scan through. Credit card, money, Shell gas station club card, various bussiness cards... Sean stares at me.
"Where'd she put it?"
"On the TV."
"Oh."
"I wear your golden ring inside
suits me very fine
I wear your golden heart in mine..."An uncomfortable silence tickles us, and he sighs. "I guess you'll be going now then." His face seems relieved but his eyes are sad. Fake smiles.
"Yeah, thanks for finding it."
"Sure, anytime." I turn to walk towards the door, and Sean opens it, "So I guess I'll see ya..."
"Yeah, I guess so... Bye." I turn to walk away, but he stops me.
"Um." I turn around and look at him. He seems unhappy. "How are you? I mean... how're you doing?"
I'm sad. I miss you. I still love you. I gulp, "Fine. Life's fine." He nods, and gives me a half smile, which I return before starting for my car again. I'm tired, and my heart is breaking with every step, but I know it will hurt worse if I go back. So I don't.
"...and life is very fine."
