Inspired by a Song

inspired by a song

Kelly, babe, I don't even know what to say to you. I hate this. There's so much that I want to say that I know I'll never have the balls to say. I know that I swore to you that this would never happen. I know I swore that everything would always be okay. Christ, what happened? I got nabbed. I also got lucky. If I had been in court for dealing, I wouldn't see you for a long, long time.

Kelly. You of the beautiful face and the heavenly breasts and the amazing ass and the and the fireball tattoo and the endless smile and the sad asleep face and the voice that lulls me to sleep every night. Some boyfriend I've been. I've now left you alone with the drunks and the junkies and the stalkers and the assholes and there's nothing I can do about it and you have nobody behind you to make sure it's okay. I know you're a tough fucking girl and I know you'll be okay, but I hate myself. I love you. At your worst you've woken me up from the deadening silences, and at your best you've taken me for rides that no hopeful man could ever forget. It's always been you and me against the world, but now we're getting split up, separated. I can only hope that the world shows us some courtesy since we're now two separate players instead of a tag-team.

Do you remember when we first got together? You had been spending all of your time with that drunk guy, Chris. I tried to make fun of it. You said, “It's such a shame, how much he wants me, but he'll never have me. You, though, you're stuck with me.” And I remember when you came back after having that fling with that girl Rain. We made love all night, and then you just looked at me and said, “I almost forgot how good that was.”

How many months will I be away from you? How many times will you be alone while it rains? How many times will I kiss some bleached pillow instead of you?

I hate this. I've never gone to jail before. What's going to happen? Am I ready for this? Will I get raped? Is it true that this happens, or is it only part of a story told to us a long time ago? Do I fight it? Will you still look at me the same way?

There's a time. A moment. Somewhere there is a night where the two of us are alone. There's no bar, no drugs, no chaos pulling us down. I've heard of this. Maybe I saw it in a movie. I don't know. Maybe even with the shooting star flying over our heads in the perfect night. Maybe it's like that night when we passed out in FDR Park listening to the planes land a few miles away from us. Or like that one night at Frank's when they let us sit on the stoop with our drinks and watch the moon and the stars and all the kids drinking coffee across the street. They never let us do that again. I remember, it was just like in the movies. There was just the slightest wind blowing, but it kept making your hair rise and fall.

Or like that time we got too drunk and made love in the fountain on the Parkway until that cop chased us out. Or that time I woke up in that tub of ice cubes with you holding my hand. I don't want to deal with this.

I'm so sorry. I'm sorry that I'm a fuck-up. I'm sorry I'm just some lousy fucking dealer. I'm sorry that I was stupid enough to get caught. All I want is to spend the entire night tracing my finger around your tattoos. To run my fingers through your hair while you sleep. To fall asleep with your breast cupped in my hand. To think that someday we'll be happy in a world beyond bars and streetcorners.

Can I be away from you? Can I do this?

You are my girl. When all the buildings in this town crumble and the sun stops rising, I'll be holding your hand.