ElwoodBlues

I wrote this story 2 years back, when I was a junior in high school. Sad times. Thought I'd share, hear what people had to say.

To Sara-

6:31 AM. The alarm sounds, the deep 7 string tone resonates from the cd player. Yet another day where I awaken to thoughts of you. Thoughts which I cannot shake. As I shower and dress still your image plagues my mind. Eventually I leave my house, but I cannot leave my torment. The thoughts follow me everywhere. I can never stop thinking about how much I want to be with you, I can't even put it into words. I walk to the school with my head down as my mind bubbles with the thoughts. I feel the pain in the pit of my stomach again. Its one of the worst pains in the world, a pain which only belongs to you. As the pain wrenches my insides my eyes begin to tear up, and I start to wonder why I'm still alive. Why I have to suffer. The crossing guard rasies her stop sign and lets me cross to the school, greets me in the same chipper way she does every morning. "Hi, how are ya?" I don't feel like elaborating, so I lie though my teeth and tell her fine. I try to walk in the front door to escape the cold, but the butt pirate feels its necesary to make me go through the cafeteria. Fuck him, doesn't he realize what I'm going through? I wish every asshole could know what I'm going through, just so they'd leave me the fuck alone, realize I have enough to deal with without their bullshit tactics. As I walk through the cafeteria, I can feel random eyes watching me. Watching the curly cue walk by with the big black case. I'm sure a few take the time to wonder why I look so sad. Why I walk with my head down and drag my feet. Maybe one of them even knows you. Maybe they're a good friend of yours, but they'd never put it together, that someone they know and love could cause all this pain. When I make it to the band room I sit and try to play it off like everything is ok. Some people even buy it. I guess I'm a good actor. Some mornings its worse than others. I can't even muster the strength to pretend. I end up using all my strength just to keep my eyes from exploding into tears. When the bell rings I head to my homeroom, more eyes watching me, maybe more wondering why my head hangs low, why my eyes look so sad. I get in homeroom and sit quietly, alone in my thoughts while the stoners talk about how high they got yesterday, the gay kid talks about fashion to all the preppy girls, and theres some jibberish on the TV about this load of horse shit of a war we're fighting in. Its all a blur, the thoughts conquer everything and engulf my mind. The fucking bell again. Up to history. What a fucking joke of a class. Hes such a bigot and a racist, even when he tries not to be. It doesn't matter much to me, most of the time I can't hear anything he says. People wonder why I space out in class for 15 minutes at a time. Not moving, not resonding, not reacting to any of my surroundings. All I think about is you. I think about the day when I thought every thing was going right. We were together and happy. Your lips came within inches of mine, but they were not meant to touch. Every day I relive that moment at some point. It was what I have been waiting for, for more than a year, but it wasn't what I thought it was. It was just a game. A fucking game, where I was the loser. My mind wanders for long periods of time and eventually someone will notice. I'll hear some laughing, see people looking at me, and realize that I had yet again been lost in my thoughts of you. Whittemore asks me to put in some music, so I opt for my burnt cd. My cd with your song on it. The song is so beautiful to my ears, and yet it induces the familiar wrenching pain in my stomach. On more than one occasion the song has reduced me to tears, but thankfully this time I'm able to hold them back. No one else can understand why the song is so beautiful. Why it makes me so sad and happy at the same time. Whenever I hear it, I think about everything. I think about when I stood in your mothers bedroom and help you against me. You rested your head against my chest and closed your eyes. When I saw your face in the mirror, I swear you looked so happy, so comfortable, but I was wrong. Yet another false fucking emotion. When the song ends I pull it out and get ready to go to my next class. When the bell rings I walk down the hall towards the normal meeting spot. Still thoughts of you plague me. Since I woke up I haven't been able to shake them. The group meets yet again, and I spend the next 7 minutes pretending to be ok, as I stand next to the person whom I envy the most. Does he realize how incredible you are? Does he have any idea how lucky he is? Any idea what I would give to spend one day in his shoes? One fucking hour in his shoes. I would give anything for that one hour, to be with you and be loved by you. But I can't give anything. No matter what I give, I can't change it. And that kills me. Finally the bell rings and I dont have to pretend anymore. I can go into class, put my head down and just let whatever I fell out. She doesn't care, that fat shit just thinks I'm some crazy stoner musician anyways. Sometimes I'll space out again, wonder where you are, wonder if you can even begin to imagine how horrible I feel. I start to wonder if you care. I keep telling myself you do care that you hurt me, but then my mind wanders and I ask myself, "If she did care, then why did she lead me on like that" I keep telling myself that you didn't mean to. Telling myself that you didn't know you were leading me on. Its my own fault, I should have known you were just playing around. I always blame myself, I was wrong. Before I know it I can escape from spanish class, but I dread knowing that things will only get worse. On my way to the caf I think about you more. I wonder if you're already there, first in line like usual, or if maybe you're late, or maybe if you'll already be at the table just sitting. When I get in line, no matter what I do, I can't avoid seeing you. My eyes seem to always find you, no matter where in the cafeteria you are. When I sit down I am privelaged enough to be front row center for 20 minutes of torture. When I see you with him, it rips me apart. I can't help thinking how much I wish it was me you were with. I think about how I could treat you so much better than he does. Take you places, buy you things, treat you the way you deserve to be treated. I'm not sure if lunch is better or worse now without him. On the one hand, I no longerm have to sit through my torture. On the other hand, its been replaced by a new torture. I hear you talk about him, how much you miss him and love him. I couldn't take it, so I left. I didn't feel like crying in the cafeteria.....theres much less people to see in the bandroom. I pull out my saxophone and play, trying to think of other things, but all I can play is the blues. A sad, slow blues. When everyone comes back from lunch, after a while you always come into the back room. Lately you haven't had much to say to me at all. Sometimes it reduces me to nothing, and I end up sitting and sulking where no one can see until I absolutely have to go out into the band room. Sometimes Kelly will come back and console me. She doesn't even have to ask, she just knows whats wrong. It feels good when I know she cares. When I know someone cares. Finally when we play music I can start to be freed from my thoughts. When I play sax I can never completely free my mind, but it helps. If I didn't get the relief I dont know if I could take it. Time flys by when your playing music, and we put away our music and axes. After playing it seems like you dont have much to say to me recently either. It seems like you dont want to have much to do with me at all recently. When the bell rings you leave the band room, but never my mind. If I'm lucky, I'll have my guitar with me. Thats the only time I can really be free. I can express myself, and feel good, and forget about you when I play guitar. Except for that one song. That one song has such power, just in the first chord. One night all I played was the first chord and I started crying. But as long as I avoid that song, My guitar can take me away from you. It can take away my pain. Through jazz class its just another blur. Whenver I have to stop playing because G is talking, I can't concentrate. Usually I can't even hear him, he just gets drowned out by my thoughts. Usually this time of day I start thinking about whats going through your mind now. I wonder if your thinking about what could be going through my mind at the same moment, but I doubt you ever are. Finally school ends. As I walk home I catch one last glance of you waiting for the bus. I look at you, waiting for thats one last chance of the day to see if your eyes will meet mine and we can share that gaze which can only mean love. But it never happens. Our eyes never meet and my love for you is never shared. On the way home the pain in my stomach usually will start again. Sometimes I'll start thinking about how I'd rather be dead, but that doesn't usually happen till later at night. I get home and get ready to go to work. My dad never understands whats wrong, so I use my standard lie, tell him that I'm just tired. When I get to work all I do is pile on more lies. "How are you Pete?" "I'm good, how are you Bob?". More lies. Especially when I work in front. I dont want the customers to have a nice day and I dont give a shit how they are. I want them to fuck off and die so I can go home and feel sorry for myself. But I can't. I have to work. Then I have to do shit for an extra half hour after I'm done working. Once I finally get free from that shithole I come home, and usually my dad finds some reason to get mad at me. It all just piles up. Everything gets worse. After that all i can do is sit idly in my computer chair, while I feel worse and worse. I try to call you but the phone just rings for 2 minutes. When I try again finally you pick up, but only long enough to say nothing and hang up again, so that the phone will stop ringing so you can finish talking to buddy on the other line. Just what I fucking needed. After that the rest of the nightt pretty goes downhill. I feel worse and worse about life knowing that I'll never be able to let it go, knowing that I'll never be able to get over it. Some nights I just wish I was dead. I dont want to be around to face the next day. Why keep living if I'm just going to be miserable? Eventually everyone leaves me, so I sign offline and go to bed. Recently I dont really give a flying fuck. I'm not trying to impress anyone, why brush. No one gives a shit if I sleep well or not, so why fix the bed. I dont really care if i choke in my sleep and die, so I think I'll keep the necklace on. As I lay in bed I'm tormented yet again. Your the first thought when I wake up and my last before I fall asleep. But this means nothing to you. My song means nothing to you. My tears mean nothing to you. I've done so much for you, but none of it means anything to you. You're too in love with him to open your eyes and see how well I treat you and to appreciate it. Oh well. Nothing I can do can change that. Nothing I can do can change anything

J.R.V.A.

Been there, I can feel your pain. Hope sharing and time have helped.

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And as she plays,
her sweet song of laughter
floats through the air
and warms my heart

ElwoodBlues

Definite rough times. But I'm all better now, shes nothin but a distant memory. I just came across it a few days ago and decided to post it

__________________
I think Pringles initial intention was to make tennis balls. But on the day that the rubber was supposed to show up, a big truckload of potatoes arrived. But Pringles is a laid back company. They said "Fuck it. Cut em up." -Mitch Hedberg, '68-'05

Bauer's the man.