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Rated: 18+ · Other · Experience · #1275913
Part 3 of "Lyrics to the Engine's One Note Song."
         There’s Pink Floyd coming from the stereo. I light up another Black and Mild as I pass a sign that says “Little Rock, 162.” I think it’s just past Little Rock that I hit my junction off of I-30, so I can set myself on autopilot for a while.
         I don’t know why, but in times of crisis I always come back to “The Wall.” I don’t understand it. Maybe it’s just the fact that the story Roger Waters tells is way sadder than mine, at this point anyway. “Pink’s” life is very similar to my own so far and the irony is not lost on me.
         “If you wanna find out what’s behind these cold eyes, you’ll just have to claw your way through this disguise!”
         Like I say, the irony is not lost on me. As I ponder the depth of the lyrics and try to calculate how long the Black will last in miles rather than minutes, my mind wanders to one of the last conversations we had.
         “So I’m sitting here wondering why you haven’t been returning my calls.”
         “Sorry, it’s just that I’ve been so busy lately”
         “Oh, yeah?”
         “Yeah, between work and school and stuff for band…”
         “And going over to Jim’s place?”
         “What?”
         “You don’t think I’ve figured out what’s going on?”
         “…………”
         “So I’m right? (Fuck, I hate it when I’m right)”
         “Look, I never intended…..”
         “I don’t give a fuck what you intended! The fact of the matter is that you jerked me around, made me believe this would go somewhere. I really wanted to work toward something permanent this time. By the way, does Jim know that you made out with me just the night before you two started ‘talking?’”
         “I don’t see….”
         “I mean, we used to call each other friends. I would think that knowledge like that would affect his actions.”
         “I haven’t…..
         “I figured as much. Look, I’m tired of being jerked around here. I’m tired of sitting here by myself hundreds of miles away lonely and longing while you run around with whoever the hell you please and get off toying with me. I’ve had it!”
         “Would you just listen……”
“No, you’re time for talking is over. I invited you over numerous times so that we could sit and discuss this like adults, and you kept dodging me. When you can figure out a way that we can both be happy with this situation, then call me back, but don’t call me until then!”
         It was at this point that I slammed my phone shut and threw it on my bed as hard as I could. I was so pissed off with adrenaline that I was nearly blind. She then got on AIM and proceeded to tell me how childish I was being, how her and Jim might be a long-term thing, how I needed to get used to it. I maintain now what I told her then, and that is I consider more childish to tell someone you love them (even if it is in text) and then treat them like this.
         That was last time I heard her voice for months.
         Ironically enough, I was so juiced off of pure adrenaline and testosterone when I hung up on her that I need something to do with it or I knew I’d have to break something. I had had a test that I had needed to study for, but that I had been procrastinating. After I hung up, I put on some Johnny Cash (his later stuff, without a backing band) and started studying; I studied for two hours non-stop. I ended up acing the test. Passed with flying colors.
         “Is there anybody OUT THERE?”
         I think God’s being cute again.
         I pass a sign that says “Little Rock, 94” and I reach into the passenger seat for another Black.
         I’m trying to think of the next time after this incident that we spoke on the phone in civil terms. I honestly can’t remember if we ever did….
         I don’t feel like I overreacted like she said I had. Everything I said was true: I had been home on Spring Break, she had come over several times and we had made out most of them. I was starting to feel the connection that had drawn me to her years before. I really wanted to work something out so that we could be together.
         Then one night she randomly went out to eat with this guy we went to school with: Jim. Next thing I know, whenever I call her, she’s either hanging out with Jim, or planning her schedule around him.
         I had seen her do this before, I knew shit was about my emotional fan…..again….after I had finally gotten it cleaned off. So I started urging her to come over so we could talk. Honestly, all I wanted to do was talk. When I returned to school, I was hurt and pissed, and that evening the above conversation ensued.
         “The show must go on…”
         The worst part of the whole situation is that I honestly can’t shake the feelings I have for her. All the shit she’s put me through, and I think I might still love her. And I have no idea why. She pisses me off to no end and I can’t stand her. But then I get around her and I lose all motivation to be a jackass to her.
         As “Pink’s” trial winds to a close, I start thumbing through my iPod to find what I’ll listen to next.
         The sign says “Little Rock, 58”
© Copyright 2007 Raul Nixon (tallihead87 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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