The Men In My Life

the old pictures have faded a bit....
..and the corners are torn




...I never was a 'daddy's girl'. Nor a momma's girl, while we're on the whole subject.
But I remember an instance in the house while my parents were going through their divorce one summer (right before their 23rd wedding anniversary, mind you), I was fifteen and my older brother, Ryan, was eighteen at the time, that I found a new parental outlook.
Now, just a side note, but I'm not bashing my parents because I figure they did the best they could, with their dull witted ways anyway, but I'm not an angry kid or anything.
I just remember this being one of the stupid memories, one that made me cry probably too much at the time.
But I know that it happened about 1:45 in the afternoon, and Ryan is screaming downstairs at my dad "go suck a dick in hell": "fuck you"; "slut": you know, all the wonderful things boys do yell at their fathers at one time or another. My nine-year-old sister and her friend were listening from her room, getting their first education on such crude vocabulary. (Strange...I don't remember ever seeing that friend again...)
In the end, Ryan ends up kicked out of the house, banging on the door and still screaming curse words.
Now, we lived in a neighborhood, one with houses everywhere and our neighbors kids were outside riding their bikes, some mowing the lawn, and others just driving by.
...in the end, I spent two hours cleaning the house on my dad's order (my mother was gone at the time) and all the while he was spouting off how unhappy he was with life, with his wife, with his children, and how I was screwed when it came to going to school, being that I didn't know where I'd be living when my mother moved out.
Anyway.
SOmehow, after my mother came home, we ended up with a broken phone, dialed 911, Ryan got back into the house, yanked my dad up out of a light sleep, cursed insanely loud once again, and threatened murder.
And in the end, I remember myself getting shoved out of the house by my dad after Ryan left. I was petrified.
And the reason?

.......I couldn't tell you why he kicked me out, except that he was just full o' rage.
I still don't answer his call the times that he does try to call my phone. How immature or not that is on my part, I don't know.
It'll probably get me in a regretful and guilt ridden situation. That's just how my luck flows.
Not that I'm bitter or anything.

You Won't Ever Be Lonely

And I'm sitting out on the bench and my jeans are smelling like chlorine. My shirt is dripping. My hair is drying, and it's lopsided, my cow lick accented nicely. And to be honest with you, I put my shoes far away on purpose.
You put it in the best way possible. I heard myself thinking, and you were too. There was something between us that shouldn't have.
It felt so right. I was just waiting.
I couldn't feel anything except the thoughts of how I wish you would just go for it. I was reading you exactly how you were; and I didn't even know it.
It seemed right, and I wanted it to be.
But we both knew that it wasn't.
...
And it's too bad you just happen to be every other guy. I put you up on a pedalstool, and what a mistake.
I hung on every little thing.
It's too bad that you're just every other guy.
"Tell me something."
ANd what is that you want me to tell you?
That you're everything I want?
No.
No no.
I don't trust you to fall back on.
I promise, it seems, you won't ever be lonely.
I thought that I never wanted anything in your vision. I never wanted you in my vision. I thought that knowing what you were thinking was my problem. I figured you out, and still, why is it so...
...And I was thinking, and I got terribly mad, and you called, and I still was, and you tried to feed me something delicious, and I took it.
I could never tell the real thing from the splenda.
And I'll never know if you meant it or if you just said it.

I think I may give up on the whole, you know, you thing.
It seems the smartest of things.
hah.
YOu're entirely too much.

This TIme

I needed to hear all the things that I wanted you to say.
I wanted to hear all the things that you needed to say?
The pictures are foggy
and I still have them uploaded.
You know that maybe I had something to say. We couldn't hear it. I keep dreaming that I'll finally say the right words in the right rhythm.
I was too worried to let it go.
And so I was the coward that I envied in my misguided intentions.
But you know.
I wanted to be all the things no one could say. (you couldn't say)
I woke up in a pile of dirt.
I woke up on a swing set after dark.
I woke up to your cologne.
And then I started drifting back.
And then I decided not to wake up anymore.
You decided you weren't going to say goodbye.
Who was I to wait?
The thought lingered in my throat, and it still does, because there's a conscious part of me that will aimlessly roam.
Anatomy failed me. Wasn't there supposed to be a heart?
Wasn't I supposed to be able to use my brain?
And the paths crossed, and I did away with both.
I heard what I was saying. I couldn't.
I couldn't say what I was saying. And I didn't.
And because time is just our imagination
I'll do away with what I had imagined.
Cigarettes linger in the air and I hate it.
I hope you drink alcohol, to let it go.
Because I can respect such idiocy compared to what we both have been doing.
This.
It's too bad I never had much rhythm.
And no drum to dance to.
Keep breathing, because you don't need me to tell you.
I'm not leaving anymore.

Army Letters ( # 4 )

I got Snake's fourth letter today. Perhaps not the most romantic of all things, but it is a little blast from the past to talk through letters.
The difference in today is that there was actually a return address on the envelope.

Sarah, 30JUNE2006

Okay, well whoever said that we can't write or call for three weeks is full of...We finally have our permanent address and we got to basic today. We were briefed last night for two hours for boot camp. This morning we carried our bags and aligned them accordingly. After we ate we lined up next to our bags and they piled us up in these things that resemble horse trailers. The drill sergeants are freaking loud and not to freaking mention that we arrived at basic five days early so, instead of nine weeks we get ten and the drill sergeants didn't get a break in between the last privates that graduated today so they are taking it out on us. Boot camp freaking sucks. I got sent back to the end of the lunch line because I wasn't side-stepping. So, basic doesn't actually start counting until next Friday, which is good and bad for us. Good in the sense that we will be ahead and bad because the drill sergeants are pissed (we're not too ecstatic about the whole thing either) so we are going to get a lot of shit...

01JULY2006

I got cut off last night, didn't have time to finish. Today was easier, the didn't yell and the female drill sergeant took us to get Gatorade. We cleaned all three stories of the building that we are staying at. A lot of us hid in the lockers or bathrooms to get some sleep. (hah!) I'm beginning to hate the words "Front Leaning Rest Position" (push-ups). We should graduate around the first couple of weeks of September.
I miss you, I cannot wait to see you and hear from you. I love you. We get to call on Sundays. Do you think that you'll be able to make it to graduation? Let's hope so.
And I'll keep sending you letters, don't worry. I love you! (Sorry, but I can't be even more lame) I almost (but I held back) wrote "I Love Sarah" all over my stuff like everyone used to back in junior high. I'm totally joking. ...Or am I? I'm not, dammit how gay am I? I have to get ready for bed. I miss you.

Love,
Jake

The whole concept of communication via letter blows my mind, seeing as how so much communication I'm used to is electronic. (Rather, communication that everyone is used to, even living under a freaking rock, is electronic.) I almost forgot how to put pen to paper.
I've been keeping together well. And there was alcohol tonight, and given the circumstances, I could have definitely drowned my 'sorrows', but I think I'm starting to get over the whole 'acting drunkerer than you really are'. Not that that classifies me as mature, but http://otherpeoplespizza.blogspot.com totally gives my explanation.
I've been keeping in touch with Snake's mom a lot here lately. Hopefully we can go out to dinner here soon. We'll see.

"That Ain't No Way To Go"

I haven't really done a lot of thinking lately. Throwing myself into work really keeps my mind off things. "Things". I don't know why I refer to you as "thing".
I do have this Wednesday off. I'm not exactly sure what I'll be doing with myself.
But never fear: if I cannot work, I shall sleep.
It's the only guaranteed way I can't rationally think it all over, at any rate.
My dreams haven't been taunting me lately.
I wish you could tell me what you were thinking lately.
Lately, I'd readily tell you what I was thinking.
I'm being honest.
Would you like to think about five years from now? Or ten? How about twenty?
Oh, how the time will fly by too fast.
Don't raise up hell.

And tomorrow: new pay roll. I have a nice check waiting.

Appropriate

"....the drinking bone is connected to the party bone and he won't think it's funny...."

I went with Snake's mom and sisters to the fireworks show at Lake Ray Roberts. Definitely had a good time.
Of course, with this little sun allergy business I get, I fully expect to blow up tomorrow.
That'll drive people out from buying food from me tomorrow.