|You're just another love song part 4
||[Jan. 6th, 2008|10:07 pm]
if truly his ♥ was made of icing...
In times of conflict I usually find myself on the bathroom floor with a toothbrush down my throat. Tonight, as I pull the handle, flushing the toxins down to the pipes below, my frame shudders and I fall back against the plastic shower curtain. From here I can see my reflection starring back at me, my face slightly swollen, speckles of meals past on my chin, I smirk and say, "You did this." There is something so satisfying in doubling over with weakness, when I've pushed my body far beyond its natural capabilities and I surrender to the weight of gravity. It is in this moment that I feel most alive. I can feel every muscle in my body tensing under my skin, the pulse of my veins feverishly pumping blood to my heart, my throat opening and closing in time. "I did this." It is a control unlike any other, to retain power in a world where I am powerless, comes with it- a rush that can only be felt by the strength found in weakness.|
By nature we are all weak, but strength can be exercised until it can dominate on command. When he calls me, I could hang up, but instead I answer without hesitation. I hear him speak to me and I can pretend that nothing has changed. Sifting through every adjective he delivers, I can find the answers I have been searching for these past couple of months. When he says, “Things have been really hectic,” I finish this statement by adding, ‘without you by my side.’ When he tells me, “I have been so busy lately,” I know that he means to say, ‘trying to find a way back into your life.’
We all have a degree of self-centeredness, but my levels of conceit fly far off the charts. I just have trouble deciding if everyone wants me or if everyone is just against me- but I do know, however, one thing to be true: that everyone specifically considers me before deciding what they plan to do with themselves. So I understand that when he does not call me, it is because he is too ashamed or afraid, but when he does in fact call, it is obvious that he can no longer take the lack of communication. Either way, it is a lonely world when you are so important that people just cannot be around you; for the myriad reason that seem to come to mind.
I am in a bar with my roommates when he decides he must hear my voice again. Finishing the last of my cocktail, I feel the persistent vibration of an incoming call against my thigh. My phone is flashing his name and I knock over Michele’s Pabst Blue Ribbon as I climb over her and out of the booth.
"Hello?” I am trying my damnedest to sound nonchalant and distracted. I promptly light a cigarette and examine the tip.
“Hey Myke.” He sounds surprised, or taken aback. I try to detect any background noise whatsoever to create an image in my mind. I hear a conversation in motion- a group of people walking by him on the street somewhere. I hear a car horn, the sound of glass breaking. I picture him shivering cold wearing a thin paisley sweater in a dark alley with a mangy cat sticking his head out of a trashcan and I snicker to myself. “Long time no talk, what are you up to?”
“Just having some drinks with my roommates,” I say as if I still don’t quite recognize who it is I am talking to. “What are you doing…?”
“Well, I was trying to meet up with some of my friends at this bar in Pacific Beach, but the lines are extraordinarily long and I doubt I’ll even make it in by two.” My head is heavy with an oncoming buzz, and I frown at his choice of words. “I took a taxi, so I am kind of stuck here. But you are busy so… never mind.”
I smile because I know he knows that I would drop these girls quicker than a bad habit for him, not my best quality I must say, but what can you do? The false apprehension in his voice is courteous and I choose to overlook the fact that, once again, I have become the “if nothing else works out…” guy. “I’m on my way,” I say as I slip into this role with the slightest of ease.