There’s no more heart to bruise. I have nothing left. Everything within me has died. That’s how I felt the day I left. I had thrown caution to the wind, packed my music, a couple of books and took off. A one way ticket to nowhere. I was never the adventurous type; I was the one who always followed the rules. To this day, I can’t remember how it began, how it progressed. I remember landing and that sinking feeling that I was alone. Panic had set in and my lungs couldn’t ingest oxygen. While we drove down that huge highway I felt myself drifting farther and farther down the point of no return. There was no turning back now. I remember driving into the city, seeing things that are now long gone.
I don’t remember my first night sleeping alone, in a bed that wasn’t my own. I don’t remember the first day of school. I remember sitting in that giant lecture hall feeling so misplaced. Feeling like I wanted to give up; I’ll never find my place in the world. I remember making friends. I remember seeming like I blended in; I was just like any one of them; no one suspected I didn’t belong.
The middle is a mystery to me. Bits and pieces drift in and out of memory, but there’s no concrete memory. There are lots of fragmented images and disjointed sound bites, but I can’t piece it together to create a whole representation. There was always music. Music feeds the soul and makes everything better. The red glow of my beloved Moulin Rouge. Paris is the backdrop of my revolution.
Now it’s all different. Now I don’t want to remember. I want to find the source. I hate people. I loathe them. When I’m alone I feel real. I am who I am. Everything you do pisses me off. I’m a loner and if you dare disturb my solitude dot dot dot. I used to be a social hermit; now I’m just a lonely sociopath.
Paper-perfect. I can be so charming. Warm and disarming. Inside, I’m raging and wanting to gouge your eyes out, coat them in chocolate and serve them on a stick to unsuspecting children. I want to lurk in the shadows and see a murder. I want to talk to a rape victim seconds after her ordeal and ask her how she felt. Look into her eyes as she talks about the pain. I want to scream my lungs out until they fill this room. Until I bleed. I want to cut the fat off my body and starve myself. Cut chic designs on my legs and colour them in florescent colours. New age tattoos.
I can’t remember how I got here. One day, I was sitting in a room, dreaming of getting away. Now, 20 years later, I’ve lived in different places. I’ve ended up in a wasteland. A dump site for humans. This bus smells like body odour, unwashed dog and booze. Like work. How sadly true. I blend the surreal, the real and unreal. I don’t make sense in my head anymore. I pay $175 to sort through it all. I have thought up a wish list. Three things to solve. If I can commit to letting these things go, I’ll be ok and then we can clone me. “and if you complain once more, you’ll meet an army of me.” A redheaded sea of the dead. Aimed to kill and maim. Seek out and destroy, all to the tune of Madonna’s latest hit.
The eternal goddess. When you slithered into my life, it was wonderful. There was a reason to get up and smile. You always look so good. I would sneak in glances; it was so obvious. You were my obsession. I would part the sea for you. Even now, you still enchant me. If I had a heart, it would skip a beat at the mere mention of your name. Getting over you was the hardest thing I’ve had to do. You haven’t been replaced. Yet. When you start sentences with “did I ever tell you” I feel like we’re almost friends. Like I’m almost a part of your life. The more I learn about you, the more I hate you. The more I want to get away from you. You are so toxic. The sound of your voice is acid to my skin. When you say my name, the air leaves my lungs and my brain shrinks. You share things with me that I don’t care about. I wonder how anyone can get so close to you and survive?
Up here I pretend to be safe. I pretend no one can get to me up here. A false sense of security; my dreams are full of betrayal. You betray me because we are not even. You’re on a higher playing ground. You’ve upgraded your weapons. My batteries are dead. My emotional state is dangerous. I could blow at any second. If you say something in a tone that suggests anything, I’ll burst into tears, the world will come crashing down and I’ll stand alone and embarrassed. Stupid and sheepish.
“Only the one that hurts you, can make you feel better. Only the one that inflicts the pain, can take it away...”
