The night is empty, silent, lonely... yet it is filled with her.
I have forgotten how to think, how to be, since she left.
Time has lost its meaning.
The stars twinkle, beautifully, teasingly, hatefully.
They look down on me with cruel amusement.
I sit in my room, frozen, embraced by the wall and the floor, as the night air whispers in my ear.
I try to ignore it.
She didn't break my heart; she rearranged it wrong.
The moon mirrors me tonight, broken, cloudy, jaded... we are basically brothers, ha!
But alas, while the moon can still shine fractured as a crescent, and clouded by the fog, blanketed by the bleak night, I cannot; I dull myself. I waste away, I wither.
I would rather die than continue on broken, fractured, and wrong.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Moonshine... moon shines.
I can almost feel the waves.
Lights blur and blanket me.
I just left that one spot we used to love. That one cluster down Limonite.
As I blur through, heading to the freeway, my mind drifts back to all the memories of us.
The late-night drives, midnight snacks, and parking spot hangouts. The things we shared growing up together.
We grew up together.
I reminisce and ponder, somewhat spiraling as I drive through these sleepy suburban streets.
Those eyes by New West plays, your favourite song of me, you said. I hit the brakes and pull over, reaching to skip the song or change it.
As I sit there, though, car stopped, I change my mind. I let it linger... HAhahahhahahHhaH.
Fuck.
West Coast by Coconut Records plays next. I sit for a minute, take it in, then I keep going.
A montage plays in my mind as I reach the freeway. South West. I barrel down the I-15; I can't cry, so I let my battered Accord cry for me. Going way past the so-called speed limit, well, there isn't one in this lane really.
Sex Tourists, by the French Kicks... This played on the radio when we first hung out together. We met each other because we both skipped class, the good old days.
I am a mess, a cesspool of mixing emotions and feelings and thoughts.
The emotions and memories blur. Mixed. Amalgamated. Tainted, yet not in an ugly way.
I take the I-91 and start speeding up before I drain myself.
I have to get there.
I have to.
I must.
I have to.
I-
Have-
TO.
I go faster, I barely register the new tune playing as I keep going faster, the accord crying out in protest.
Shaking, everything starts shaking.
I am not sure if it's me or the car that's shaking.
The car starts protesting, the engine starts crying.
This battered old Honda, my faithful companion.
My memory capsule.
My lifeline now.
Strangers by Mt. Joy, love that song.
Nah, fuck you.
I switch finally, CA-55.
I slow down just a little bit.
The engine is quiet now, cooling, ticking like it's thinking.
Then I
_________________________________________________________________________________________________
All fades to black.
_________________________________________________________________________________________________
Moonshine.
I made it.
The beach.