Untitled. Unedited. Unthoughtout. 3. (728 hits)
Category: NoneRating: 2 on 11 reviews (Rate this item) (V)
Submitted by lessthanfour <ossum.at.ossum.dot.net> (View user info) at 2004-12-03 11:11:09 EST
Part 1: http://www.ubersite.com/m/52516
Part 2: http://www.ubersite.com/m/52920
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In the dream, I was driving to her house. She lived in a small town about thirty miles over, and on the way was a little town called Oxley. Although on second thought, both "little" and "town" are rather grandiose terms for Oxley--perhaps "unmentionable" and "gas station" are more appropriate. Larson's Petrol was a little mom and pop type operation, the kind that is only seen in backwater towns like Oxley these days. In addition to the usual gas station fare of soda, cheap beer and candy, there was a little novelty section featuring a remarkably wide selection of cute and inexpensively cheesy gifts. I guess in Oxley there's not much to do but fight and make up, and Larson's wanted to capitalize on it.
Anyway, every time I made the trip to her house, I would stop and gas up and get her a little memento.. A little button emblazoned with "Somebody Loves Me" to attach to her purse, an electronic keychan which could record and play back messages (complete with a not-quite-memorex quality message left from me, of course), a promise ring from a twenty five cent vending machine... nothing major, just little items to show that I was thinking of her. She always loved every present I gave her, and I loved giving them to her. It became like a ritual, her asking me what I brought her, and me pretending I had forgotten before reaching into my pocket and being amazed at "finding" the gift for her. It wasn't about the gifts, it was about the giving. It was just what we did. It was one of the ways we showed each other our love.
This time, however, I was making the trip rather late, at least by Oxley standards. The town's motto, best imagined as said by a shotgun toting grizzled old man, is "If you ain't done it by 8 pm you ain't doin it here!" Larson's was closed for the night. I still wanted to get her something, anything, just to not arrive empty handed. I was looking about my car for ideas, and was reduced to giving her my reciept from lunch at Taco Bell the other day ("Surprise, baby, it's deductable!") when I spotted something at the end of a farm road that assuredly led to a farm, replete with farm house, farm animals and farm um.. farmers.
Daisies.
How. Perfect.
I pulled over and rolled out of my car like a ninja, if ninjas were fat and white. Kind of like Chris Farley in that movie, Beverly Hills Ninja. Except I didn't have to save an orphanage from an evil banker while learning that true strength comes from friendship and trusting in ones self or whatever contrived plot point upon which that movie was based. I just had one task, one target, one objective: Daisies.
I have to tell you: if there was a perfect night for daisy thieving, this was it. The stars were out, and being this far out in the country meant that you could actually see them. Have you ever walked in Van Gogh's "Starry Night"? Me neither, but this night was damn close. There was a gentle late spring/early summer breeze in the air, and the temperature was perfect. The air was fresh and without even the slightest hint of the scent of farm, which was fortunate considering my location.
So anyways, I realized that my ninja attitude was pretty much foolish and I walked over to my prey. Growing around the base of a shabby, paint-flaking mailbox was a small mound of daisies. Saying a silent thanks to family MacGregor for their unwitting assistance in our little ritual, I snagged a small handful of the prized flowers and returned to my car.
A short while later I knocked on her apartment door, all the while keeping my other hand behind my back. When she answered, she smiled, happy to see me, and her smile transformed to a smirk when she noticed my hidden hand.
"Have you got something for me?" She asked, coyly. As if she didn't know.
"Why would I bring anything for you? If I was always giving you gifts you might think I was in love with you or something," I replied, with at least equal amounts of coyness.
"Then what have you got behind your back?"
"Me? Nothing. This is how people walk in my family. We're rather old fashioned and proper, you see. Like in Titanic."
At this point I decided to cut off her giggles and reveal her gift du jour. She stopped in mid smirk and her jaw dropped a little and her eyes shone. You'd think I'd just given her the world. Or at least a puppy. She took the flowers and threw her arms around me and kissed me like I just cured the particular form of cancer with which she was afflicted. No, it was better than that. Imagine the best kiss you've ever had. Now double it. This kiss was better.
She led me into her apartment, and gentlemen don't repeat the things that we did that night. But I'll give you a clue: Crisco.
We fell asleep in each others arms, carefree, innocent, warm.
Morning came, and then I woke up.
"And then he woke up." I always hate it when books and movies pull that shit on me. The writer paints himself into a corner where the bad guys are unstoppable and the love interest is dead. It's so dire that Jesus himself rises from the grave, takes a glance at the situation and says "Whoa, you guys are on your own." Better hit that magical reset button.
"And then he woke up." Like that makes everything okay. All the bad stuff goes away becuase you woke up, and life is good again. It was only a dream. Wake up and remember that the boogeyman isn't real and grandma is still alive and Freddy Kruger only has power if you believe he does. Well, when I wake up, it's to find that she's gone. It's to heartbreak and bitterness. I wake up to used-to-be-white walls and tears and the smell of piss and another day without her.
It was only a dream, but dreams have power. Dreams can turn timid men into leaders, pagan Roman emperors into Christians, warriors into farmers. They can cause sane men to snap. This why I don't allow myself to dream.
The worst part is when you're still groggy, and you have a smile on your face and roll over to kiss her good morning and realize she isn't there. I prayed for death this morning, approximately 28 seconds after I woke up, when reality came crashing in.
The only truly happy moments I've had in life were spent with her. In her arms, in her bed, by her side. I never felt complete, never felt loved, never felt content, unless I was with her. I was a better person when she was around. Tolerant, forgiving, gentle, generous, thoughtful. I was able to forget the past abuses and ignore the future pain, and be happy with the now.
The only way I can keep going is to forget her, to pretend she never existed, to move on with my life. To give up dreams.
"And then he woke up."
Fuck that.
User Reviews
Submitted by thecaes (user info) at 2005-01-29 15:53:53 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Submitted by dizzyupthegirl (user info) at 2004-12-11 05:21:07 (#)
Ranking: 2
now onto number 4! its almost better when you know you have one more ahead of you to read..
**************
Tru dat, GooGooDollsFan.
I am curious to see if this girl is real or a figment that he can't stop imagining...
Submitted by dizzyupthegirl (user info) at 2004-12-11 05:21:07 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
once again... bravo
now onto number 4! its almost better when you know you have one more ahead of you to read..
Submitted by Shaun_Rocks (user info) at 2004-12-04 16:43:55 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
This is my favorite series on here right now, keep it up
Submitted by Davros (user info) at 2004-12-04 04:29:06 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
This just keps getting better.
Keep them coming.
-Davros
Submitted by jenngd9 (user info) at 2004-12-04 00:24:12 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
I adore you
Submitted by lessthanfour (user info) at 2004-12-03 14:52:38 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
munkeypants, I've had your cell phone number in my phonebook for like 2 months now (or whenever you made that post) which is amusing since I've never called you, and don't know you. Maybe I should rectify that. Good times.
Tim, Downer, Katie: Thanks for reading, I'm glad you enjoy the series.
Id: I don't really know about hard or rewarding in the sense you're asking.. I don't really know why I'm writing this, I just sit down and write and I don't hate what comes out.. I think one day I'll just stop because it's not enjoyable anymore or I run out of things to say.
I do wish more people were reading this though. I'd put it on uberboard but there's about 40 of them today and it would surely be a waste of my dollar. Maybe Monday.
Submitted by munkeypants (user info) at 2004-12-03 14:20:52 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
I hope there will be more in this series.
Submitted by Id (user info) at 2004-12-03 12:40:17 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Pray, continue with this series.
Also, do you fid this more rewarding/harder than writing stand-alone posts? (I ask because I'm writing one myself).
Finally, not enough people are reading this....
Submitted by katiegg9917 (user info) at 2004-12-03 11:47:38 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
You're a beautiful person, you know that?
Submitted by downerSTAIN (user info) at 2004-12-03 11:35:36 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Damn, dude. Damn.
Submitted by MyNameIsTim (user info) at 2004-12-03 11:18:21 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
i hear ya man...i hear you.
good reading..