whatcha ona bout girl??

whatcha ona bout girl??
A retrospective on the inner workings of love, flying pancakes, mensa disasters, dandelion cookies, number bending, super salt, bubblegum oysters, chicken spit, crystal kidneys, guerilla carrots, polychromatic tofu, paraphysics, tender vigilanties, black sand, phillastine placebos, wood soup, buttered shuttlecocks, apostrophe training, fish whips, bleeding speed, plastic fantastic lobster telephones, venus drug rehab, clowns on fire, kiosks on a leash, marshmello overcoats, bottled light, fried blood, unbridled hyperthyroidism, folding wine, amygdula tickling, fainting in coils, hamburgers for the apocalypse, plastic memes, and conjugal fritters.....well...the love parts true

Wednesday, August 12, 2009

The party, a sweetheart, and the coachman inn


Oh man my high school sweetheart did a number on me. Its all good …...now. But back in the day?…..I don’t EVEN want to talk about it. You know that one that breaks up right before college starts?? Dude I was a disaster. People I DON’T know are grabbing my arm and asking “are you ok?”
OK so now what?
PARTY….. Plain AND simple. Win her back. I suffer till Christmas when I know were all coming home from school. The word gets out….Logans having a party at the coachman inn…..Yeah ..rented a conference room …..cool…yeah …spankin dude…The wheels are in motion. Music??.... Check. ….. Alcohol? … CHECK. Car?clothes?food? ……..Killer.
The place starts to fill up. The booze is loose. The music is loud. Faces appear in the dark and hugs are plenty. We sing. We dance. Ahh my friends…..a nite to remember. My party. Cool dude. One problem…..Its midnight and no show……. WHAT? …. Where IS she? Come ON!!! How can she NOT be here. The pain is.....all..new ..again. Fresh tears flow like she just told me goodbye.
I look over and two guys are literally having a fistfight IN the Christmas tree. People rush over…...half to break it up and half to keep it going. …. Fan…..tastic. I look to my left now that the crowd is entirely on the other side of the room and someone has kicked a door in….. Gr…..eat. I crunch over broken glass bottles to close the door and the phone rings…. “hello?” I try not to slur. “Sir this the manager….” I hang up. “EVVERRYYBODDYY OUUTTT” Time passes when you toximicated….I remember swaying and sweeping. Loyal folks cleaning things up in silence… unable to speak because it sounded like this. “I grinnnk flats a foo pamemy choots……k? “ I nod in agreement. The partys over. I cant take credit here.

You never call me up
When Im alone at nights
What can this poor boy do?
When he’s hopelessly in love with you

I understand. Bad wounds heal too slow for me to say it’s all good. At first it’s all bad. I’m with ya. Blind in a room with no doors. This is not cool dude.….What kind of demon is this that blows up your heart and demands you pretend to like a substitute in between months of loneliness? I’ll tell you. One that has to die. Love does come around again….. but only for those who remember what its all about and not just about how it ends.

4 comments:

Kimberly said...

Fighting IN the Christmas tree...I seriously chuckled out loud!

Love does come around again. Stupid love, I hate you.

f1trey said...

True story...every word...Hang tough girl....

ViolentLove said...

haha, i seriously never know how to respond to your posts. Love reading em though. :)

f1trey said...

@violent love- :) That makes me happy! More to come...Itrying to inspire like Robyn Coffman is hard work!