It was Saturday, the eleventh of August. The ominous clouds were crying and a needed misspent night was ahead. They told her parents that they were going to church, which was a plausible scene for them at this point in their lives. That was their home for almost two years now, it was the one place they could go other than her car that allowed them to think freely, not be judged by the people surrounding them, and that welcomed them for as long as they wanted to stay- so they thought. They had grown weak in will, weak in faith, and weak in accountability. They had thought for the last year and half that they could do something great, they thought they had great people surrounding them, and they thought that a relationship with a prophet made things worth it- at least for a good amount of time. It was truly lamentable, watching their lives spiral down to the depths of the trenches. As their relationship grew stronger, their relationship with God was drowning and for some reason they were okay with it. When the last October came around they both realized the forsaken realities of life, when January came around they tried to reduce the pains through acts unlike their true selves, and when August came around there was no turning back. He was her partner in crime and she knew him better than he knew himself, she could read his mind, she always knew what he was feeling, and he could never figure her out-she liked it that way. He was from Chicago, had a white smile that could light up a dark room, he was about six feet tall, had brown hair, crystal blue eyes, an awful taste in music, a family that was just as bad as hers, an annoying obliviousness, a heart that could hold all the love in the universe, a never ending appetite, a completely undeveloped frontal lobe, a contagious laugh, and a killer Boston accent that could make her laugh until the sun peaked in the morning. She would literally do anything for him and that night's 'anything' was taking him to see his girl of the week. She hated it with every fiber in her body to see him reach for the door handle, get out of her car and kiss the stretched faced girl in the back roads of who knows where, but she just loved to see him happy for a moment. She never had a relationship like this before, it wasn't even a friendship- they were simply doing life together. It was never of importance if they had feelings for each other, if they were going to be together it would have to wait because none of them would speak up. She loved him with every ounce of blood in her body, she treated him fairly, she taxied them around, she scolded him when he did foolish things, she watched him cry twice, she was so opposite of him but their relationship worked in unimaginable ways, she didn't care for anyone else. They approached each other with otherwise offensive names as terms of endearment and laughed about it. Both lived for each other, the world that they had once loved had become numb. They saw the world the same way but acted differently. They fought and fooled like lovers, talked and trusted like brothers, but thought and sought like strangers. She had a car, and they had each other- that's all they ever needed despite their differences. After the rendezvous with the stretched face girl they knew without speaking that church was the last of places they would be that night.
Her: Where are we off to? You know this area better than I do- still one toned from the kiss she just watched
Him: I don't know, just drive. We'll find somewhere to go.
Her: Whatever you say.
She gripped the grafts in the steering wheel of the mustang, put her headlights on, and headed to nowhere. It was a usual occurrence and one they particularly enjoyed. In those moments they were free; free from having to think, free from having to worry, free from the pains. They had come to a point in their relationship where silence was comfortable, they could still hear what each other was thinking- or at least she could.
Him: There's an abandoned warehouse down not too far from my house, we could go there and just chill.
She was up for anything so he showed her the way to the old metal shack and she pulled into the small lot, hearing the asphalt crunch beneath her tires. She parked, expecting a usual night of lust to fill the voids that drowned them. Lust, ha, he hated that word because he didn't think it seemed fit but it was nothing more and nothing less of that. They were still silent, listening to the song that explained their lives. The sky was angry and every few seconds, it looked as if it was daylight. Timely flashes in front of their eyes. They sat there naively trying to capture the lightning just as it struck the open field that lie before them. Laughing when she caught the moment twice in a row and he was still unsuccessful, they continued this sort of fun. Fun: they forgot what that truly was. He reclined back into a familiar position that most times indicated what the plans for the night would be- they had a silent sexual relationship as well, for that's the way it simply was. This time differed however. She reclined her seat in sync with him, took off the belt across her chest, and put her feet up on the black dashboard. There were a few times in the past in which they had deep, intellectual conversations but this night opened new worlds for them. The two started the conversation in usual anger about their fathers, which then would lead to some repetitive comments about sports and school, which would then lead to the topic of people. People they loved, people that they were indifferent towards, people like them. He told stories of the girl from Tennessee that stole his heart and never quite gave it back, she told stories of boys she would always return to no matter the circumstances, and they each told stories of the lusts they engaged in that had no significant meaning. While he was an unintentional open book, she hated opening up to people, especially those who stayed close. She never liked people getting too close and for some reason he slid through the standards and became an exception. Her demons hid there, inside her.. If people got too close she knew they would take over. Granted, he knew nearly nothing about her but that's the way their relationship worked- as she would say it. There were brief moments of silence and many moments of soft, contemplated chatter. She had him ask her questions and she promised to answer truthfully. She always told him the truth- she could lie to anyone in the world and make them believe the most ridiculous stories but with him she found that he was worthy of the truth, he needed truth to stay grounded, to take a glance at reality. She was his truth teller. Indie music was playing in the background, they had compiled a group of songs that explained their lives.
Him: What's your biggest fear?
Nervous laughter.. Her: Besides sharks and tornadoes? Death. I know that's completely irrational because when death is present, you are not, but it scares me that this life we claim to be living is just our brains at work to keep us from going insane.
There was a burst of a blue and silver can, my God they needed help. They had brought up their mutual fear of dying before but this time was more intimate. On the verge of tears, they continued.
Her: I mean, we've been spending the last year and a half at Unleashed. What if our minds just made up the idea of life as an illusion because we're so scared to die and so that we can think we can be saved from something. What if it's all a lie? What if nothing is real? What if we're wasting our time trying to be perfect when we could be out enjoying the world and being happy. We're both not happy, we haven't been for a long time now.
Him: I know but that doesn't really make sense. Too many coincidences, too many things that just can't be explained. Who would of made up the bad things then? I get scared a lot, I hate thinking about this. I want to do right but I want to live just in case there's nothing. That's what I'm afraid of, nothing. We grew up too fast ya know?
Her: We never had a chance to make it out innocently.
They kept this going for awhile until reaching the conclusion that they would try and take life for what it's worth. It was humorous because they knew they would be back to wishful thinking on the next adventure. They sat in her car, which was now rather steamy and time was running short. It was nice, this time. Just having a conversation about life, about love, about running away together to Chicago. They could make it on their own and they knew it. They always talked about leaving home, buying a trailer until they made enough money to get out of here. They would never have the guts to do so but it could have worked. They closed their conversations, deciding it was time to leave the warehouse and make his curfew, as always. As she drove, her mind was spinning at an unfathomable speed, trying to process everything she just heard and said. He was talking about something but her attention was not directed towards him. She realized that this was the life of men- ending up at the most random of places with the most unexpected people trying to process this illusion. Everybody ended up at an abandoned warehouse at some point in their life with little knowledge of anything. Lightning flashes were the quick ups and downs and represented that darkness was almost always present despite the quick lights in life. It's the way their relationship worked- as she would say it. Men were slaves to the ground of which they walked, slaves to the mind of which they thought, and slaves of the warehouse in which they were brought.
No comments:
Post a Comment