Bryan put The Blues Brothers
in the VCR. I talked online. We had already devoured our fast food meals and sat back into a typical sedate week night. Now and then, I would walk over the the TV when I recognized the voice of Aretha Franklin, or Ray Charles
, or one of those obscure actors who had once been in Rowan and Martin's Laugh In
. Then I'd go back to talking online. Every time I talk to Angel
I want to kidnap her and keep her in my pocket. I wish she lived closer, that she could come over for coffee.
We both had to get up for 8 the next morning. Bryan is starting back at his old job. His ex leaves town for her hometown sometime the next day. Rental car has to be back at 11pm. I will likely drive him to get his computer, after she's gone, if he hasn't by then. He asked me earlier in the night, before fast food, to pick him up there. I sat in the car with the lights off, far enough away from the direct line of sight of their second floor window. I couldn't bring myself to look up into it or honk the horn. I just smoked and listened to the stereo.
Every couple nights or so
You know you pop into my dreams
I just can't get rid of you
Like you got rid of me
Ah, but I send my best
'Cause God knows you've seen my worst
Yeah, well all is fair
All is fair
Gas prices have gone down. Now it's not a flat $10 I can slip the foreign gas station attendants. I have to go back inside and get my $1.93. Pump. Stop. Pump. Click. Bryan gets in. Sitting there in my car, waiting, I felt like a bad undercover cop. I almost halfway expected her to come down after him, or wave from the window. He says she asks about me, asks what my feelings are for her. I told him that if she really understood what she has done to me, she wouldn't ask. Her asking now shows that she's concerned for relieving her own guilt.
A little after we both agreed to sleep, we can't seem to let go of the topic. I wince in the dark. A candle is dancing about beneath the ceiling fan. His face is long and now his hair is bleached blonde. I wince because I want to be over it, I want to stop burdening people with talk. Still, we agree, it is good to have someone to talk to about it. We both have one sentiment in kind, that this would all be easier if we really believed our exes felt bad about what they did, that they are able to really take in how they've hurt us. If they did, I feel, they wouldn't have done it a second time. It would make it easier to forgive, to smooth over, to move on. He said he felt bad that he maintained some connection with his ex for my sake and I said no, that was ok. He had emotional stock in his ex, and that was to be expected. Of the two, I'd said, I would be more willing to speak to my ex again because I'd known him for about a year and a half and considered him a friend, but I believe we could and would never talk about what happened.
Then we got to talking about neutrality. Some people will completely side with you, donate to your venting and ranting. Others will stay neutral. Others will stay neutral so that they don't miss out. Some people say they're neutral when they don't know that know things about them. And others, luckily, don't care and aren't involved and want to keep it that way.
I told Bryan my metaphor, which I've likely used before in a daylog. The feeling is like witnessing a really bad car wreck, standing there for a minute, and then having someone pull you away and point your face toward some beautiful, tranquil scene. You still see the car wreck in your mind, and you can't really appreciate the scenic view. You want to, but you can't right now. He said he was interested to see how I will be when all I can see is the scenic view.
So am I.