love is a brawler

An emotional release and a night out is a short lived relief for our perpetually heart broken lead character.

It was Thanksgiving and I borrowed an old country CD from my sister. I sat around quietly listening and drinking a little wine. When the flood gates opened. Emotions long dead washing over me as I'm waiting for the girlfriend to shower. The music brought "them" back, dead but resurrected loves. Back from the grave just to hurt me, zombies gnawing at my heart and mind. In essence "they" were all the same. Claiming to be that one thing I want most, true love. Yet they are all fakes, disguised, wearing masks playing their roles with Oscar worthy performances. Just as simply as my memories were jogged I was crying. I embraced it, I had a good short cry. It surprised me, I thought I couldn't.. I thought myself, my soul, so heavy, worn and dry. I had nothing left.
I stopped before she finished showering. As my tears dried I realized I was happy. Truly happy, lighthearted even jolly. Yes jolly, not HO-HO-HO jolly but a joy to the world style were nothing matters. Where your soul seems almost weightless. I felt wiped clean, the lightest I've been in years. I drink a little more.... Ok A LOT more. I finished the gallon bottle as she finished dressing and her make-up. I had a couple whiskey and waters then we were off to our usual bar. I had spent half the night lamenting old wrongs people committed upon me. Now the weight was gone, nothing could touch me. I walk in. Almost gliding, like I own the place, weightless at least for now...
I make new friends and meet a couple old ones. Jason the Mormon, turned rock star, turned marine. Once upon a time he was a very close friend. He never drank, that was the weirdest part. He was nuttier than squirrel s**t, and he?d fight at the drop of a hat. He was never afraid and it was natural never drug induced. I would show up to watch his band practice, bottle of half Gatorade half vodka in hand. Reeking of booze and female flavor but the kid never missed a beat. We worked at circuit S****y together, I watched for shoplifters he fixed computers. Well honestly we just talked s**t and tried to f**k the cashiers. We both quit they got rid of my job and he enlisted. Ah the good times, the old times. Good old times now just a good old friend. I hope he makes it through the war.
Then there was Sandy. A plump little thing, huge tits and a*s, almost to much for her five foot nothing frame. She was pretty, a good catch all except for that lazy eye. Actually that never stopped anyone from hooking up with her maybe it was all the family money? Hell I?d have thrown her a bone if she would have given me half a chance. I spent a month as her fathers damn slave. Not even three months after I was honorably discharged form the air force! What a dick move, that?s how you treat veterans? Give them the most work in your damn shop and minimum wage? S**t six months before that I was working with million dollar gear and technology f**k him! I worked at their tire shop unloading trucks and cleaning up f*****g grease. I accidentally broke their damn compressor it wasn?t my fault I swear? I quit that job also. This girl has it all, the world on a silver platter. Yet she still manages to be nice to a loser like me. I never understood it, maybe its just pity.
I stick around for three or four beers but it's to much. I'm to far gone. My charm runs thin and my motor skills breakdown and stall. I notice a commotion a couple spots down the bar. An average cookie cutter military guy is beating on a long haired kid. Myself nor the people in the vicinity have any Idea what started the fray. Guess it really doesn't matter. All we know is a jarhead is pounding the s**t out of a hippie in our crowded bar. We take this as a sign the good times are over. We leave and I have a ton of trouble walking out. My feet and my head have separate ideas of which way to go. I'm mean and crude. I get even more sexual than usual. I say plenty of things, some repeatable, others that will never see the light of day and I hope to soon forget. All the while the damn fight keeps replaying in my head.
Five straight punches and he never fought back! Why not? He just turned his face from the brunt of the punishment. I just couldn?t wrap my mind around this. We head to bed and strip on our designated sides. I'm to drunk to screw. I'm to drunk it's no use yet we try and try, finally we opt to just sleep it off. The room spins and I start to float into the beautiful darkness of my mind when it hits me: I am him! I never ran from a fist fight but love has a mean left hook. Love is a brawler and my heart the hippie. To many beatings and breaks and love no longer seems worth the hassle. I start to lose sight and then lose the feeling in my body but the weight is slowly creeping back in. I yearn to be that kid. I wish I could trade my ever long broken heart for his black eyes... The weight is back in full and now I know I'll always be alone... Then it's gone, the world is just a game in my head, floating in an inky black sea of booze and despair. There are no winners.

Author's Note

any help?

Reviews

[Aube Ralph]

besides the typos...which i'm sure if u just read it, you'd find 'em this is great. either i wear my heart on my sleeve or this just ripped some dark emotion out of me...it's melancholy but i love it