28 November 2012

No one besides myself had realized that she couldn't contain her insanity. Back then, and now. Her mother was away somewhere, her father busy with traveling to London for business, and with her sister off to college, none of her family noticed. She couldn't control the things she felt. She just felt. Maybe it had been the drugs we had done together that fucked her up, or it might have been the way those people always disappeared. They'd always go away, leaving her to scrape bits of leftover happiness off her already weak bones. I disappeared on her a lot, but I thought she understood I couldn't always be there. She never realized that I'd always come back for her. I never actually told her. I thought she'd always been mine.

"What's that?" I had asked once when I had found she had gotten a tattoo immediately after turning 18. "Nothing," she tried to pull her shirt back down but I remember grabbing it before she could. "Never let me go" I read it out loud. "Yeah. Never let me go." She repeated shortly. I still remember how fast her heart beat that day, I hadn't ever felt a heart speed like hers. Three years ago. That was the last time I'd seen her. I don't know why I haven't seen her since then, I guess I was going through one of my asshole spells and decided to unknowingly disappear again. Thats a long time not to see someone.

She was now 21 and I was 24, our age had always been an issue for me. From what I heard through the grapevine about her was that she was in a mental institution in town for a short while. "Yeah man, I guess some guy just fucked her over hardcore, and one day just crashed then crumbled apart, something else happened too but I don't remember" I never said anything in response when I subtly asked people about her. I bet it was me that made her crazy. She was obsessed with me and I took full advantage of that. I was too young to know what to think of her I guess. Or I had just made up excuses. It certainly hadn't been just me that had cracked her. Her parents must have had some part in it. She had always argued with them, ever since she was 14 when we met,

"Do you need a ride home?" It was poring rain and I had just recently gotten my drivers license. "No thanks," she kept walking. "Well I know where you live I can drive you if you want," she looked disgusted and just said "No thank you" and continued walking home from school. The rest of that day I couldn't stop thinking about how dumb it was of me to say "I know where you live." I've always hated myself for that.

When she finally got into my car one day in october we found out we lived very close to one another and I let her know that I could drive her whenever soccer practice didn't interfere.

"Im Lucille," her cheeks blushed and I remember exactly the rose red color that showed. "Im Dayton, nice to meet you." Every day with her is the only movie playing in my head.

When we got to know each other better she'd sit in my car and tell me why she was distraught. Honestly at times I felt like her therapist. I mean my girlfriend at the time had complained enough, but somehow I liked listening to her talk. Listening to her voice was like autumn wind moving swiftly from tree to tree, she never dwelled on one topic for very long. I wonder if her voice still sounds the same. I wonder if her kisses still feel the same as they had, like stars bursting in the universe. I remember her neck having stars on it, Oryens belt right between her collar bone.

Maybe it was wrong to kiss her that summer in July. What, 16 and 18? We were kids. I could tell she'd been waiting for my lips to touch hers for the past two years. She'd been extremely patient, which usually wasn't one of her better qualities. I remember saying, "Luce, I honestly just can't help myself, I'm just so attracted to you." She turned away and ignored my comment and when I tried to kiss her from her passenger seat her hand moved in front of my mouth and said, "You have a girlfriend. You can't." But I told you that labels didn't matter and we kissed, for the first time, there in your car.

I didn't care about my girlfriend I only wanted you. I still want you. I ignored you for a long time after that and eventually things fireworked again for a day or at the longest a week. "We're a secret okay?" I told her once not to tell anyone about us, I don't know why I trusted her to keep quiet, I don't know why I trusted must not to say anything because I told a few people and I'm assuming she did too. Why I kept her hidden is beyond me, I lost the one thing I thought I had.

I wonder what you're doing right now in the hospital. I picture you sitting in front of a huge antique mirror braiding your long messy blonde hair like you always did after we went swimming. You loved braids.

"But Dayton I don't have a bathing suite," she laughed and I can still picture her lips curling up walking toward the beach. "I don't either," I was insisting that we skinny dip, but it was broad daylight and I knew you had lots of respect for yourself. So instead the two of us in the hot sunshine stripped down to our undergarments and jumped in together. I picked you up to be able to hold you tight and spin you. I pretended to throw you in, but you knew I would never let you go, didn't you?

I want to come visit you at the institution. Would you remember me as that asshole who infected your heart with the wrong beating pattern? Would you remember me as the person who lived around the corner? Would you remember me at all? I wonder if you would recognize my fully grown beard, you always liked my beard. I wanted your doctors to tell me what had happened to you. The one time I notice you slip was the start of the new year, what? 17 and 19? Still young, still bitter.

"We need to talk," Luce was standing on my front porch and I had a cereal bowl in my hand. She pushed her way through the door, knowing she was always welcome without actually being told. "I can't do this Dayton," she sat on the staircase and started crying, "We can't be friends anymore, or anything, it's too hard for me to keep up. It's best for both of us." She cried and we walked to the basement and sat on the couch. I didn't want that, and I knew she didn't. "I kind of have a boyfriend," she spit out, I knew that there was something she needed to tell me. "I can't fuck it up like I usually do." I wasn't jealous of the boy at all, happy for her, really, I recall standing up and lightly pushing her up against the wall putting my lips centimeters away from hers and saying, "Is that what you really want Luce?" She grabbed my shirt, a habit of hers. She didn't say anything and just cried. We went back upstairs and She mentioned something in a whisper that I couldn't make out. I asked her what she had said and that's when I knew something was mentally wrong, "What if you and I when we see each other, pretend we're dreaming, so we don't have to deal with consequences." I was a naive young man and wasn't sure what to say so I just went along with it, thinking she was joking, "This isn't real Luci, were dreaming, don't wake up ever." Maybe I shouldn't have played along.

I'm visiting you later today, I need to see you. I didn't understand how much pain I truly put you through along with all the family shit you had going on. I was selfish. I should have known you would collapse, waiting for me to scoop you back up.

The last car ride we took together I guess I mislead you a lot. I need to admit it to myself. I need to apologize. A word that was far from my vocabulary over the years you held yourself hostage with my "love". "I'm crazy though," You said staring over at my hands on the wheel. I don't think your definition and my definition of crazy matched up very well. "Yeah but that's why I like you so much." I didn't like you, and I don't know why I told you that. I liked everything about you. I loved the way you'd distract me from reality. Maybe I loved you? Maybe I had been slipping away too. I, unlike you found my way home, you fell through a hole spiraling down, you needed me now, and I would be there.

I drove myself to the psych ward and asked if you "Lucille Angela Benzily" were accepting visitors. The nurse told me you were and to have a seat while she came out. I waited in the small room, faced towards a window, it was July and the sun beat down as I swept my fingers through my hair. "Miss Benzily, you have a visitor," The old women's voice shook as the door creaked. I was afraid to turn my head, but I had to, three years.

I turned my head as the same girl, only now a young women, stood with her hands locked in front of her staring at me. Her hair was short and parted in the middle, still blonde, still lovely, she wore a pink pearl necklace with a little thin white sundress that went just passed her scarred knees, she was barefoot, she always hated shoes anyway. "Luce," was the only word I could say. Standing there gazing at a women I no longer knew flipped my body inside out, I really had messed up. I had just fallen in love with the girl who had been in love with me all that time years ago. Our timing was off. The hands of our clocks were certainly aligned wrong. She walked towards me and I stood. "Your beard," she caressed her hand across my chin and sent shrills through me, she hadn't ever had the affect on me before. "It's been a while," she slipped her arms around me and pulled me into a soft squeeze. "I've missed you Day." She took her fingers and tugged at my flannel and smiled, her lips painted ruby. "Can we have a minute Nurse?" She nodded and walked out of the room. "You came back." She ran her hands through my hair like I had done while waiting, "Yeah I always do." She put her cheek against mine. "Take me away." I held her tight and repeated her name "Luce." She pulled away a little, "To where our dreams can become a reality" I didn't know what she was talking ab

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