It's funny, you know. How I keep getting chronologically older and yet somethings never seem to evolve in me. Sometimes, I get this feeling that when my hands are wet they might never dry. I'll be lying in the bath thinking of some unrelated task and for a second the thought goes by that I can't do that with wet hands. I was sick last week and I forgot how it felt to feel good. If I'm driving I'll think that there's no way I can do that because I'm driving.
What's that called?
Is it just me?
When you're hurting it's always like that. I recall leaving situations or being left and telling myself so many times that this happens all the time to everyone. It's no big deal. But it is. Now, years or months after everything, well on the other side of it I can't remember why it hurt so much or why it meant that much to me. I can barely remember some friends. What exactly was it like to have them around every day?
I remember a fence. It was wraught iron black and bigger than a heartbreak. I was sitting on the roof of a great big garage while my best friend Jay was kissing another girl I wished was mine. I was young and inexperienced and I just fucking knew that I'd never leave this incredible girl like Jay was going to in a few days or weeks. That's all I remember, but most of that page in my head is a painting of that damn fence.
I live close by that fence, now. I can't find the house that girl lived in or the roof we sat on what seemed like a hundred nights, but I guess was only one or two. I've driven slowly all the way around that fence.
I can't remember what that girl's name was or how she talked or if she was smart or even what she looked like. Some times that's all we get to take with us is what she looked like. I haven't even seen Jay in five years.
Man, we spent every day together. He got all the girls and we were close, once.