this was before i rearranged my room, the last time, and the time before that.
i had a mattress lying on the floor in the middle of the room. songs from the album leaf's album in a safe place were playing. i was reading choke by chuck palahniuk. it was two-am and i couldn't sleep.
if my memory serves me right, this was days before we broke up. i remember driving, i had just gotten off work at mcdonalds. you were supposed to sleep over, and i sent you a text. you were high with kd. you promised you had quit. you were always lying. so was i.
in turn with mine, i headed to my nearest comfort zone. i cried on the stairs, in a ball, helpless. the lights were off, i couldn't see anything. i was just following him up the stairs. his house still smelled like him, it was supposed to be comforting, but it just felt wrong. i sobbed. i did the swift breaths that come with crying, the ones that squeak when you inhale. i don't remember if i was wearing makeup, but probably not.
i sat on his bed, the light of the tv covering the room. this used to be homey. then it was just a reminder of everything i was still craving to have back.
--
i called your best friend to tell him i missed you. it was christmas eve and i had no idea what to do. you texted me after i called him to tell me that we needed to talk.
--
i went to kyle's to pass time until you told me it was okay to come over. taylor was there and it was odd that we were just hanging out like normal even though it was christmas day.
when i got to your house, your family was drunk, playing rock band. your sister sang bon jovi and made you play with her.
i gave your mom a christmas card. i knew she hated me from the first time i slept over at your house. i remember sitting at the top of the stairs watching your dog bandit eat when you told me i would have to go home, which at that time, was sam's.
your mom read it and gave me a hug and said thank you. i thought i may have changed her mind.
after a while, we went to your room. you were drunk on heineken and whiskey or vodka, i don't remember. we laid in your bed and talked for an hour. you played me a song with your new guitar and i was glad to know that finally we were working things out.
i remembered that i was getting a tattoo in two days, my mother had planned it. i had no idea what i wanted. i was wearing my shirt with birds on it, and it came to me. i had to get a bird. i wanted many birds. i wanted them to be free, because at that moment, i knew i was free and had let go of everything that was holding me back. and after i did it, i knew the bird was you.
we got some of your stuff and came to my house. you spent the night then instead.
--
i remember taking cake decorating classes when we were together. my drive to go to them vanished when we broke up. who was i going to make all these cakes for anymore? you were the only one who i could consistently bring a cake to who didn't care. even if it was a pink strawberry cake covered in hearts.
i remember showing up at your house with kd was there, walking in while it was snowing, the snowflakes thick and heavy, sticking to my thin coat.
--
i remember coming to your house right before school to pick you up, all the days we would call off to spend the day together instead. i remember coming over the monday morning before we broke up for good. i had spent the weekend at my dad's.
when i got there, you seemed disinterested in me. we went back to sleep for a while, and i took you to school. i was baking a cake for mary at mcdonalds and it was time to go pick you up. i drove there and you weren't around at all.
i texted you and you didn't reply. i called your house and you answered.
"kd picked me up."
"why?"
"i just don't want to see you." or something to that effect.
i went to your house, i sat on the stool in the kitchen. you were smoking cigarettes again. we were talking about how it just needed to be over. kd was out at the store, he would be back soon. he walked in, and stared at me with utter disbelief. he sat down and said sorry. i said it was fine and grabbed a pen.
i wrote everything i ever needed to say to you on two notebook pages. i tore them out and folded them up and gave them to you. i cried the whole time. i kissed you on the cheek and walked out, hoping to hear you say "wait!" or "let's just go for a walk and talk about this." but it never came.
--
a few days later, kd texted me. "he told me to tell you to bring his shit back."
"tell him if he wants it, he can man up and tell me himself."
you called me to tell me that you wanted me to bring your stuff back. i grabbed what i could and folded your shirts neatly. i hoped we could talk. i cried the whole way there.
kd's car was outside your house and i knew this was going to end badly. i walked up and there was a bag on the porch, sarah, the triceratops, inside it, and a scarf of mine. maybe some other stuff i had left, but i wasn't sure.
there was a note on the door. "just leave it on the porch" and i'm pretty sure something mean and hurtful to the effect of "and never talk to me again" or "you fucking bitch."
i grabbed everything and left.
we didn't talk again until i received a myspace message from you telling me to "stop biking by your house."
--
this is really all i have to say about this. i'm over it, don't let this fool you.
however, i wholeheartedly believe in you to quit doing drugs and move on from all of that. you had big dreams before, it's stupid to let something get in your way. i hope you can dream like you used to, and i hope you can wake up and meet a girl and love like you used to too. i'm clad we are still friends and that i have been able to help you as much as i can, through all the family bullshit. and i feel extremely flattered and honoured that you will vouch for me and stand up to your family to make sure that i can talk to you again, above your best friends. don't let them down, or me, for that matter. i have fully believed in you every time you said you'd quit, and one of these times, goddamnit, it will happen.
and well, i know you won't read this because one: where you are i doubt you have a computer, and two: i'm not sure that you would read through all of that bullshit. but if you ever do, let me know and tell me how you feel. you always liked my writing. but when we broke up, i stopped writing as sarah. i wrote as claire. well, now, mostly, i write as me. i think i'm just content with who i am. finally. so thanks for all the lessons.
i had a mattress lying on the floor in the middle of the room. songs from the album leaf's album in a safe place were playing. i was reading choke by chuck palahniuk. it was two-am and i couldn't sleep.
if my memory serves me right, this was days before we broke up. i remember driving, i had just gotten off work at mcdonalds. you were supposed to sleep over, and i sent you a text. you were high with kd. you promised you had quit. you were always lying. so was i.
in turn with mine, i headed to my nearest comfort zone. i cried on the stairs, in a ball, helpless. the lights were off, i couldn't see anything. i was just following him up the stairs. his house still smelled like him, it was supposed to be comforting, but it just felt wrong. i sobbed. i did the swift breaths that come with crying, the ones that squeak when you inhale. i don't remember if i was wearing makeup, but probably not.
i sat on his bed, the light of the tv covering the room. this used to be homey. then it was just a reminder of everything i was still craving to have back.
--
i called your best friend to tell him i missed you. it was christmas eve and i had no idea what to do. you texted me after i called him to tell me that we needed to talk.
--
i went to kyle's to pass time until you told me it was okay to come over. taylor was there and it was odd that we were just hanging out like normal even though it was christmas day.
when i got to your house, your family was drunk, playing rock band. your sister sang bon jovi and made you play with her.
i gave your mom a christmas card. i knew she hated me from the first time i slept over at your house. i remember sitting at the top of the stairs watching your dog bandit eat when you told me i would have to go home, which at that time, was sam's.
your mom read it and gave me a hug and said thank you. i thought i may have changed her mind.
after a while, we went to your room. you were drunk on heineken and whiskey or vodka, i don't remember. we laid in your bed and talked for an hour. you played me a song with your new guitar and i was glad to know that finally we were working things out.
i remembered that i was getting a tattoo in two days, my mother had planned it. i had no idea what i wanted. i was wearing my shirt with birds on it, and it came to me. i had to get a bird. i wanted many birds. i wanted them to be free, because at that moment, i knew i was free and had let go of everything that was holding me back. and after i did it, i knew the bird was you.
we got some of your stuff and came to my house. you spent the night then instead.
--
i remember taking cake decorating classes when we were together. my drive to go to them vanished when we broke up. who was i going to make all these cakes for anymore? you were the only one who i could consistently bring a cake to who didn't care. even if it was a pink strawberry cake covered in hearts.
i remember showing up at your house with kd was there, walking in while it was snowing, the snowflakes thick and heavy, sticking to my thin coat.
--
i remember coming to your house right before school to pick you up, all the days we would call off to spend the day together instead. i remember coming over the monday morning before we broke up for good. i had spent the weekend at my dad's.
when i got there, you seemed disinterested in me. we went back to sleep for a while, and i took you to school. i was baking a cake for mary at mcdonalds and it was time to go pick you up. i drove there and you weren't around at all.
i texted you and you didn't reply. i called your house and you answered.
"kd picked me up."
"why?"
"i just don't want to see you." or something to that effect.
i went to your house, i sat on the stool in the kitchen. you were smoking cigarettes again. we were talking about how it just needed to be over. kd was out at the store, he would be back soon. he walked in, and stared at me with utter disbelief. he sat down and said sorry. i said it was fine and grabbed a pen.
i wrote everything i ever needed to say to you on two notebook pages. i tore them out and folded them up and gave them to you. i cried the whole time. i kissed you on the cheek and walked out, hoping to hear you say "wait!" or "let's just go for a walk and talk about this." but it never came.
--
a few days later, kd texted me. "he told me to tell you to bring his shit back."
"tell him if he wants it, he can man up and tell me himself."
you called me to tell me that you wanted me to bring your stuff back. i grabbed what i could and folded your shirts neatly. i hoped we could talk. i cried the whole way there.
kd's car was outside your house and i knew this was going to end badly. i walked up and there was a bag on the porch, sarah, the triceratops, inside it, and a scarf of mine. maybe some other stuff i had left, but i wasn't sure.
there was a note on the door. "just leave it on the porch" and i'm pretty sure something mean and hurtful to the effect of "and never talk to me again" or "you fucking bitch."
i grabbed everything and left.
we didn't talk again until i received a myspace message from you telling me to "stop biking by your house."
--
this is really all i have to say about this. i'm over it, don't let this fool you.
however, i wholeheartedly believe in you to quit doing drugs and move on from all of that. you had big dreams before, it's stupid to let something get in your way. i hope you can dream like you used to, and i hope you can wake up and meet a girl and love like you used to too. i'm clad we are still friends and that i have been able to help you as much as i can, through all the family bullshit. and i feel extremely flattered and honoured that you will vouch for me and stand up to your family to make sure that i can talk to you again, above your best friends. don't let them down, or me, for that matter. i have fully believed in you every time you said you'd quit, and one of these times, goddamnit, it will happen.
and well, i know you won't read this because one: where you are i doubt you have a computer, and two: i'm not sure that you would read through all of that bullshit. but if you ever do, let me know and tell me how you feel. you always liked my writing. but when we broke up, i stopped writing as sarah. i wrote as claire. well, now, mostly, i write as me. i think i'm just content with who i am. finally. so thanks for all the lessons.
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