The rear-view mirror

My fingers were clutched to the steering wheel of my `63 Cadillac.
I loved this car, loved the safety it presented, however nothing could make me feel sure about the decision I was about to make. There wasn’t much room for doubts this time. I had to act intuitively or I wouldn’t act at all. I knew this part. Knew how much hurt it would cause.
The houses across my driveway looked peaceful in the total blackness of this Christmas night. No stars were there to guide me along, put up decoration for the holidays the only faint light my eyes could detect. The quietness gave me time to think although I knew this would only make it worse. I resisted the urge to look into my rear-view mirror for I knew what I would see.
He was probably up by now, realizing I had left our home without prior notice. Maybe he was already standing on our porch looking at my unmoving body on the drivers’ seat, maybe he’d still be searching the house for me. My head was spinning and I didn’t have a simple explanation for why I just didn’t start the car, hit gas and drove away.
Something was blocking me.
My free will seemed frozen between forced decisions.
This was the night I was supposed to leave the only person I have ever loved, whom I still loved. This was all I knew, I was doing this for the reasonable, more rational story ahead.
If there was one, if there really was a better future for me…I wasn’t sure about that. All I felt was concern and struggle because deep down I would have rather died than leaving the only place I could call my home.  I looked around, into the familiarity of the neighborhood.
Him and me, we had a nice house. It fit in well with the usual family homes but it was special in its own way. It had us. We presented the binding link between a house and a home. We made it a home, our home.
But reality had to catch up somehow, it was only a matter of time. When I realized none of it was real, all just made up in my mind to give me at least a few moments of utterly and complete satisfaction I knew I had to stop. Give up on him and that house. Suppress my need to hold on to him. I always thought realizing itself would be the hardest, but living in this reality was actually worse. Reality is not easy, it’s unrewarding and even more. It’s painful.
I risked a glance. The rear-view was dusty, and I astonishingly realized that I hadn’t moved the car in weeks. This was a side-effect of being in this house with him. I hardly felt the need to leave it. I cleared the mirror and looked back. He was already there as I had expected.
Not moving an inch, he was very calm standing on our porch in my favorite outfit of his. There was a split-second in which I thought of getting out of the car and running back to him. I could have gone back just one last time and I knew he would have given me the kind of hug I was sure only he was able to give. But I restrained. There used to be so much love and sincere affection in our touches but reality had taught me better. When I told him to be fond he would be fond, when I wanted him passionate, the passion would never stop. It was me and my imagination.
All this time.
Seeing him so close yet so far in that mirror all I wanted was clarity. Easiness. Someone to make this decision for me. Someone to tell me how unnecessary this holding on to him was.
It took me another minute to really look him straight into the eye. He was beautiful, maybe not perfect but he was all I would ever want. He was all I could ever imagine. All, forever.
His face showed his confusion that just went so well with how I felt this moment.
Act instinctively I told myself over and over, so when I hit the gas pedal, closing my eyes I pushed the thoughts of him staring at me aside.
The car moved forward and when I checked the mirror again he was gone.
The rear view empty. Nothing there.
Relief washed over me, in the end it was easier than I had imagined. The blackness of nothing encircled my brain and it actually felt quite good for a while. I didn’t hear his voice, didn’t hear his laughter that was always the only comforting sound I knew. No shiny eyes stuck on my desperately running body, no smile that would welcome me home. I didn’t feel his hand around mind to ensure me that everything was alright.
I was leaving, on my way.
Into a colorless, soundless and dull existence. Because that was my choice.

 I reached the desert at dawn. It was cold, bitterly cold, so cold I even had to turn on the heater. Arizona was a plain yet impressive state. Easy roads, not much to pay attention to since my car was about the only one in a few hundred mile radius this morning.
I saw him only three times after I had left. One time when I passed a gas station, next time he was standing in the middle of the desert far off the road. Last time a few minutes ago when his face appeared caught up in the rain that was splashing down on me.
I was pretty much playing along, trying not to freak, staying calm, ignoring the signs of the oncoming storm. I was concentrating on the big nothing as good as I could. I knew it would be hard, that my mind would be fighting to have him stay by my side. But this was what I had chosen. An endless fight against imagination and an utopian happiness.
This was the right decision, wasn’t it?! I could no longer give in and live this fantasy life where there actually was a me and him when in reality there could never be.

January passed and I had moved on.
Passed through Nevada on to Idaho and ended up in Oregon.
Not much happened.
February brought me to Washington. I liked Seattle. Liked the breeze coming from the pacific.
But not much happened either and I decided it was another time for a change.
I packed my stuff, got in my car and hit the road.
My Cadillac seemed a bit weary and hated me for leaving the easy western routes, moaning when we reached the mountainous roads in Montana.
I met a few people here and there but nothing could ever make me come a halt, neither physically nor emotionally. There was hardly a moment able to cheer me up. I hardly smiled.
I was bitter and strained. I wasn’t myself, not at all.
When I closed my eyes there was darkness. No colors, no smiles. It was silent. The music sounded different when I didn’t hear his voice in between the tunes. The air wasn’t fresh neither did the food taste the same.
It felt like the world was upside down, at least for me. Everybody else just went on. Nobody asked, nobody saw me and what had become of me. I was alone with this…and with my decision I didn’t even have the thoughts of him to help me get through this.
North Dakota and Minnesota didn’t really bring a change. Wisconsin and Illinois tried but failed in the end.
There was no point in turning around because the west-coast wasn’t really much better, the very first days after my decision felt good…but just because I had acted. Just because I had done something. With the consequences breaking in on me I realized nothing ever was good after this Christmas night. Nothing felt good, no one felt good.
I almost died in March, collapsing under my build up fake resistance. Collapsing under the amount of pain every single thought of him caused. I missed him so much, yet I went on with my delusional stray along America’s finest highways. Reversing my decision felt much like failing though I didn’t even know who I was competing with. There was no one who demanded a justification, no one but me. And after all I was the hardest judge in all this.
Missouri’s roads brought me to Kansas. The mid-western calmness appealed to me. I was closer than ever to where I had started from.
The bitterness crawled deeper into my body every day. I didn’t even have the strength to cry anymore. I could have just gone and left this world without much effort.
The sentence to death was spoken a long time ago. So much I knew.

I passed Oklahoma and reached the state line of Texas in the beginning of April.
Dallas was beautiful as usual. The vividness kept me up at night, had me sleeping for only a few hours a day. I felt exhausted. Didn’t know where to begin, didn’t know where to end. Unsure about every step, unsure about myself I strayed around aimlessly. An empty shell roaming the streets I was nothing more. Kissing strangers, washing off the dirt of my body in the morning because no touch ever meant a thing. Different day, different city. My wheels loved the lonestar state, loved the slowness of everything.
I still changed on a regular basis, waiting for the day I could finally leave the world and become a memory.
On Day No. 6 I entered the city of San Antonio. I knew my way around things here, strictly going for the best bar in town. I started to weaken, I could feel it. The moment the storm would hit me and destroy my wall of resistance was close and it was definitely stronger than me.
The whiskey burned its way down my throat and I stared into the black and white surrounding of mine and I thought that I was still too young to act so tough.
No one talked to me, no one shared a smile, gave me something I could work with.
I stumbled out on the street later that night, stumbled to the next corner, stumbled onto his path. My gaze stuck to his face for a moment and I could feel the tears coming up.
“No, not now” I whispered to myself knowing there was no chance I could run away from the wave of happiness rushing through me. His hair, his eyes, his mouth…so familiar.
His hands on my face, his voice whispering like music in my ears.
“You’ve come home.” He said and I smiled.
When he pulled me in, the alcohol washed out of my body and I was free. Free of the burden of pain, free of concern, free of hate. There was comfort in every single touch of his, my body pressed against his I didn’t feel like playing a role anymore. It was me. Right here. I was myself.
With him I was free. And I realized that if he really is all I could ever imagine so let it be me.
If he really is all I would ever need than there was no way for me to change it.
I was home. It might seem that I was failing in something.
But the changing was a failure itself.
So if everything in my life was a mistake anyway I would sure want the mistakes with him next to me. He drove my Cadillac and the passenger seat felt like the most comfortable place I could imagine. My gaze wandered to the rear view mirror. Raindrops were covering the rear window, sliding down in slow motions, a rainbow in the sky presenting the first colors I had seen in months.
A smile broke my face when I squeezed his hand and closed my eyes.
He is all I would ever need. Yes, I could work with that. 

   Out of my hands

Your mixtape is still playing, filling this room with the story of you and me.   
        
String your guitar, put on those boots, let’s get out of here.
For this Place’s not safe.
Let’s walk through the desert.
Along forlorn train tracks, wearing cowboyhats, hiding from the sun.
Take my hand. Run with me. Let’s never arrive.

Remember our first day?
I thought nothing would change. That smile you put on my face, so effortless for you.
I thought it would stay that way.
But do you see me tonight? 

Remember that day when you drove me to the cottage at the lake?
Sometime in July it started so innocent.
On the road with you, far from reality.
Summer’s glow on intertwined hands, I couldn’t see.
Couldn’t see it coming, just hearing your voice calling out my name. 

I baked you a birthday cake once.
It was an act of friendship. Who would have known back then?
We never celebrated the day, never stopped laughing, too busy to care about anybody else.
It was you and me and me and you.

There is no time to ask you this. There is no chance of letting you see it for yourself.
Look at me tonight, look me in the eye.
See the story behind the frontline of factitious strength.
See how I remember this moment so clearly, the moment you stopped tap-dancing around my heart and finally entered
for it had been your home all along.

You’ve given me a new life with that, surreal and beautiful.
You’ve made everything look different. And you let me be.
I could live for a while, being so close to you…
Happiness conquering particles of blues in slow but forceful paces.

But do you remember the change?
How unstoppable and brutal it took its place?
And I was sure we would find a way, somehow.
For all I knew was that I only needed this one moment, alone with you where no one could see our faces.

While the guilty vicious lie of pretense is growing, never slowing down all that is left inside is crumbling into pieces continuously, ruthlessly.
I never wanted to give up on this reverie, it was never my decision.
The mirror is reflecting what I never wanted to see.
Making me realize that all that has remained is the pathetic part.

Empty eyes staring out of holes. These days…quite hard.
For months I’ve been stumbling through a dull world, trying to find a place I could find some sleep.
Memories haunting, regardless.
Unable to change it for the better again. Unable to bring you back.
Useless life. Useless, unneeded me.

I’m long gone by now.
My body a shell never tired of pretending.
Letting everybody see I’m supposedly good without you.
But me…I’ll never let this story come to an end.
Unseen by the world I’ll keep on playing your tape, instilling my dry body with vivid memories of your hand in mine.
It’s destroying me, no doubt. But it’s all I know…all I can.

I can keep this up, you know.
Just don’t look at me now. I’m not who you used to know.
I had to find a way for myself. And I ended up despising myself.
Tired of screaming, tired of existing in a world that knows no you I keep insincerely falling in love with silhouettes.
Never like you. No one. Ever again.

The alarm went off at 5am on Christmas Eve. I slept until 6am. I slept until my cell informed me that I had a text message.
‘Get up sleepyhead. Your train is leaving in an hour. Love you. Jared’ I sat up, sleepily, with a huge grin on my face until I completely realized the meaning of his message.
“Oh crap!” I yelled, suddenly awake, and jumped out of bed. It didn’t even take me twenty minutes this morning to shower and rebuild myself so that I would, at least, look like a human being to the world.
I grabbed a few clothes that lay scattered on my floor and threw them into my backpack.
‘Why don’t you ever pack in advance, stupid’ I thought and stumbled to my medicine cabinet.
“Tylenol. Codein. Oh yes. Codein.” I mumbled to myself, throwing the clacking bottle on top of my clothes.
I reviewed my apartment with a last sigh and closed the door.
Luckily there weren’t so many tourists around at this time of the day so I didn’t have much trouble catching a cab. The driver quickly understood my plea to go as fast as possible when he saw the extra 20 bucks that were in for him and instantly proved that the ‘I survived a New York City cab ride’- shirts should definitely be taken literally.
It was 6:57am when I found the right track at Grand Central, curiously inspecting the train that would bring me to Philadelphia. With grinding teeth I had to realize that it had San Antonio written all over it because, obviously, Texas was its Final Destination.
‘You never let go, now do you Jare’ I thought when I let myself fall into the cozy cushion, watching trees fly by when the train put up speed and rolled out of New York City.

 The Philadelphia train station didn’t change at all. I still had it memorized so perfectly although I didn’t come here much more than once a year. Breaking out of childhood, fleeing from parental supervision…the adventure of the unknown always started here when I was a teenager. Maybe that was the reason the Central Station still felt so familiar.
I got out of the train last, with my backpack hung loose over my shoulder, taking every step as slow as possible, letting people rush by who were obviously eager to get home early this Christmas.
Nobody waited for me. Naturally. They never picked me up so I was already used to finding a way home by myself. My parents house was about 40 minutes outside of downtown Philadelphia, so normally I would have taken one of the many regional trains that also served the smaller villages scattered around the city. However, this year I decided to rent a car in case I needed to leave at short notice. My thoughts sounded ridiculous to me because I had never left early, as bad as it had gotten in the past, I would have never had the heart to leave them during the holidays. But this year I wanted it to be different. Besides, I promised Jared to take care of myself, even if it meant leaving early and spending Christmas on my own.
When I pulled up on the carport I noticed I was the first. Only my parents dark green Chevrolet was parked in the garage, the thick sheet of snow in front of it indicating they hadn’t left for quite a bit.
The house looked peaceful, pretty even. Dad must have fixed the porch I realized with a smile. I remembered how he hated handiwork even though he was a man. Always home late from work, the weekends usually busy too! ‘A man of law and order shouldn’t be responsible for stupid craftswork’ he used to say. He never could accept that he had retired and the almost forty year old house needed some attention now too. But mom must have convinced him eventually, because it shone white, almost blinding and the wooden platform looked neat and inviting. The light blue shutters were newly painted as well. I wondered if my siblings already knew about all the changes and decided that they must have. I was, after all, the only kid in the family who thought a monthly catching up would be enough.
It took me another five minutes before I could get out of the car and made myself dive into the familiar unfamiliar. It was quiet outside. Wonderfully quiet. And the air caused an actual physical pain in my throat because it seemed fresh, pure and ice cold. Slowly I trudged through the thick snow, regretting after seconds that I decided to wear my chucks this morning.
“Hey you!” a voice called behind me just before I reached the first step that would bring me onto the dry ground of the beautiful porch.
I turned around, already quite aware what my eyes would encounter.
And there they were, pulling up behind my rental car in their expensive show-off Mercedes with their Maryland plate that said ‘DOC-MD O1. Their way of letting the world know that Doctors were traveling.
Susan, my sister, hung halfway out of the window on the passenger side waving frantically while her husband, Bryan slowly came to a halt. Their two girls on the backseat hopping up and down, destroying the soothing quietness with their shrieking voices.
“Emma, is that your car?” Susan cried out as soon as she got out of her Benz.
“Honey, it has Georgia plates. What do you think?” Bryan said deprecatingly, not even bothering to greet me.
“Rental car!” I shouted towards them, also making no attempt to cross the lawn again to greet them properly.
Her husbands remark must have appealed to Susan because she nodded with a grin. She never expected me, out of all people, to have a car so the rental explanation sounded just fine to her.
There were quite some noises now in the calm neighborhood and it didn’t even take one minute until the door opened and mom stepped out looking at us with a pleased expression. Quickly she turned her head to get Dad.
“Jack, it’s the kids!” she screamed and tip toed out of the door frame to give me a quick hug before she went off to greet Susan and her family.
I didn’t have the nerve to watch that loving fuss and finally found my way on the porch, shaking off the snow of my soaked chucks.
“Emma!” my dads voice startled me. “Oh Emma, it’s you!” he said again when he pulled me in for a hug. What was that?
When did he ever hug me like he… like he really had missed me?
“Hey Dad!” I said, almost breathless. “What’s up?”
He let me go and watched me in the eye for a moment. “It’s good to see you kid!”
“Of course. It’s good to see you too, Dad!” I said, still a little taken aback by his never before experienced emotional outburst.
It was then when he saw mom with Susan and the rest that he fell back into the familiar behavior and stepped away without saying anything further. He walked towards the little group in the driveway, leaving me by myself, the way I had expected it from the beginning.
I kicked off my shoes and got into the house that never, not once, felt like a home to me.

--------------------

Not much of J here. But it's only a fraction of the whole thing. Really.
Anyway.
Despite headaches...maybe I can kick writers block in the shins tonight.

A shining world.
Genuine smile and rays of sunshine gleaming out of glistening eyes.
Where once was a numb, emotionless mask beauty has taken place.
Drums and beats streaming through veins like liquid heroine.
It can’t stop. Just don’t let it stop.
The voice touching the pristine heart, making it dance for the first time.
Guitar strings gliding along untouched skin.
The roaring of the audience. The bass rushing in the blood, speeding up, speeding up.

Your face.

I feel it in my body. I feel it in every cell. I'm alive.
Every single particle of my organism is allured to that dance.
And it’s not gonna stop.
My soul is with you someplace, my ears all yours.
Skip a beat, my heart is racing with your chords.
Play for me. Sing to me. It’s royalty.

This...whatever it is...is dedicated to Kings of Leon.
Because, after almost 24 years of music experience I can say...for sure...that Kings of Leon are probably the most magnificent musicians I've ever come across. I'm no specialist, I'm no critic...I'm only honest.
Although you could kill me...literally...and I still wouldn't be able to make a choice of favorite KoL Songs I, in particular, thought of King of the Rodeo while writing this short non-poem-poem!
Even those sincere words could never even begin to cover what really happens inside of me when I listen to their songs...

There is not enough 'Thank you'  to express how much you guys are giving to the world