Rum Cherry Coke Cigarettes.
I finally caught her. Her feet were stuck to the floor, congealed and mired in honey. A sugar-coated, saccharin glue trap of fawning and people pleasing that felt like it might be the end of me and I thought… There’s got to be a way to get away from her and all of her don’t fidgets and sit on your handses and be polites and be proper and smile and smile and smile, sugar, sugar. Until all the world seemed soaked in Karo syrup. My hair felt matted with it. I feared those scissors again because why bother with a comb? Who had that kind of patience? She just wanted more and more and more of my life for herself. If I’d just do it this way. if I’d just do it her way, oh so sweet and you’d believe it until.
Until she turned and seethed rage because she wanted more. Because if you’re not making up lies about how this is all heaven forever and ever, forgiving every little thing like she was a saint, and so were you, then it was the end of the world. Why couldn’t you just focus on something nice? Because she couldn’t tell the difference between negativity and flat-out denial, so the world flowed sticky with her brand of fix it because there really weren’t any problems to fix, if only I wasn’t so unruly. But I finally caught her, I finally did. Which was for me, means for me, just getting away, leaving her there stuck. I couldn’t let her pull me in again. I finally knew that was her favorite trick to do, because I cared.
Just finding that door where he was waiting, holding it open, was everything. Waiting for me to fly with him. Finally, cut loose from the kite strings and climb and climb and climb until we were the sky, until we were the clouds, until we were the air and could finally breathe one another in and fill one another up completely. The way we always really wanted to, like each others favorite memories, all the songs we knew every word to, absorb the lyrics through our skin with the fine spray of mist coating our feathers when we reached the edge of the ozone. When we escaped because then we knew, holding hands, we could go anywhere.
But in my mind’s eye, I could still see her there stuck to that particular color of colored paper and I was pained by it. There was nothing I could do or it would have been the end of me too. He waited holding the door. He held my hand and we flew… And nobody knows what I never told him. Even I don’t know how it was that he knew all of the little things that he knew.
He saved me once and for all and again. Rum cherry-coke cigarettes and Eddie and the Cruisers singing some hopped up cover version of Cold Gin, bare feet against the dashboard…
we could finally breathe each other in.