Thursday, June 15, 2006

I Love You, I've A Drowning Grip

I can't you tell how bad it's been, the last two nights. Last Friday, Monday night, I was happy to laugh over something painful. Sitting on Swimmerette's lawn confusing Hannah, cracking up behind ice cream cones after the R movie. I'm pathetic, it's amusing, and I know it.

And what a wreaking it was on Tuesday night. Watch the girl fall to pieces over the CD she was so glad to snag. It starts with the delight over the reference to Harajuku. There's the little inkling that this song was written just for her, that maybe she should be a bigger fan. Then tears come, can't stop playing and replaying.

But she's done all this before. It's nothing new. She's the only person to whom she can't keep promises. How in the world did this happen? she wonders. Her memory's fading. She can't remember what she has done wrong. More and more these days, she has to say that she doesn't remember.

She's lying on the floor. There's a terror cinema on the ceiling. "There's tears in your eyes," says the memory of David, and tears roll down into her ears. When was I happy? she asks herself. There's just two answers she can think of. You know them, don't you?

Sound tumbles from her shelf. She's listening to British music, and she starts to wither in horror. She's in love! She's absolutely drowning in it. She loves a place thousands of miles away. She remembers with every airplane.

When she wakes up in the morning she hasn't changed clothes. Her makeup's still on. She remembers curling under the covers, screaming. Her ragged breath the only sound, until she couldn't breathe anymore. What was that? She can't remember. I suppose that was sort of silly of me.

Oh, how I wish there were a happy ending. I wish I could tell you that last night, she washed her face and went to bed the way you did. That when she woke up this morning, she had forgotten about how that horrible way Tuesday ended.

"White Flag" was playing at the dentist's. That was always the Ex-Guyfriend's song, wasn't it? That was the CD she put on at Rachael's house. That was the first song she played on her iPod. It was an accident. Accidents, that's how she wound up in church that evening. There was a Friday night, once upon a time, when she realized that nothing was more important to her than her boyfriend. She promised to go on Wednesday nights. By Monday it was too late, and every Wednesday since she's gone for no one.

I know why my shoes don't get worn out, she thought late that night, on the floor again. I don't do enough in them. What's that line, from that song? The girl with the holes in the soles of her shoes. That's "Story Of A Girl", isn't it? The one who drowned the whole world. Is it true that everybody likes that song?

The empty spaces started to scare her. She tried to sing to herself and it sounded horrible. She put on music. The song began, "Elope with me Miss Private and we'll sail around the world." It reminded her of another: "Still my heart, and hold my tongue." Her invisible friend was indifferent. She clenched her hands and cried harder at the sight: she's the only person who will hold her hand.

I'd like to see you
But really I should stay away
And let you settle down
I've got no claims to your crown
I was the boss of you
And I loved you
You know I loved you
It's all over now

And I was there for you
When you were lonely
I was there when you were bad
I was there when you were sad
Now it's my time of need
I'm thinking, do I have to plead to get you by my side?

- Belle & Sebastian, "I'm A Cuckoo"

1 Comments:

Anonymous Sophie said...

oh Anna.

Let's wear our shoes out sometime this weekend. It's not good to cry alone.

June 15, 2006 8:35 PM  

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