shit i shouldn't have read first... it's writing then reading, not the other way around.

so we start again. with the writing. but it's all changed.

we start with the beginning. outside of a bar. i was there to see a friend, he was leaving in the AM, and i wanted to say good bye. "that looks like her car". "that is her car". "oh". "who is she"? "trouble". "really"? "yeah, Trouble".

we drink and talk. my friend leaves, and i get glimpses of her. i don't want her to miss that i was here. and that i cannot stop trying to find her with my eyes. at the same time, i don't want to put any cracks in the wall of disdain i have erected between me and her. yeah, she's that much trouble.

i go back to my car. i sit. i wait until i think my friend has left, and (just to be sure kindof) i drive ahead a block and re-park. i just want to watch her. maybe not talk, probably not talk, but just watch her and drink. so i go in, and sit down, at the far end of the zero of the bar, a vodka tonic, and watch.

she is singing, but not with words. a guy is beatboxing, and another is playing the synth. it is surprisingly good. beautiful even. people change but she keeps singing and swaying.

i don't want her to be good. i want it to be sad and drunken and mediocre. i don't want this to be a rehash of "oh i wish she would notice me" from fucking eighth grade. but somehow that feels so close. i am ashamed and excited. she sways. i feel conflicted.

eventually, she does see me, but takes little notice. i know she saw me. it is confirmed on my drunken drive home, on side streets to avoid inadvertant traffic. she calls me. wonders why i left. she doesn't know that i must.

you. lady. you woman. i can't love you. it would tear. me. to. pieces. i must deride you. i must find the little things to dislike or my desire for you will rip this slight hull to splinters. your sway and grain will doom me, i cannot bear it. i must erect and maintain a wall of disdain. i will be cruel and merciless, for without it, i will surely perish. you shall be the mold of my nemesis.

i'm sorry, from the depths of my heart. we must look but not touch, not really. you are too hot an ember. too dark a night and too fierce a storm. you won't forgive me this, i wouldn't expect you to. i'm sorry. sliante.