***Stories from of The Boy In Blue.
I press my ear to the door
and hear my nineteen year old daughter crying.
my stomach tightens, my chest aches,
I press my ear to the door
and hear my nineteen year old daughter crying.
my stomach tightens, my chest aches,
Tears sting like poison
I never thought history would find her here;
Or even repeat itself.
Teenagers should never have to cry over what a Band-Aid can't fix.
I was a nineteen year old boy
in love with a 20 year old girl
Her eyes were bigger than summer suns
Her smile took my breath away.
I have never met anyone like her-
Not even in my dreams
It was the best summer of my life
and she appeared and disappeared
like the best summer of every teenaged boys life,
But she was engaged
To a man she realized she really didn't love-
He was obsessed with her presence
I was obsessed with her soul,
For some reason she couldn't tell the difference
But she felt the difference
And thought being unable to define it made her unfaithful
I thought this made her human .
I held her hand in the summer of 1990
I pressed my cheek to her face
Her wet eyelashes painted my shoulder with tears -
our love went unspoken,
our love went unspoken,
It hung in the air like fog does in Maracas Valley on Christmas Eve
It never escaped our lips
But it existed-
Like a stillborn baby,
It existed.
I whispered,
"don't leave"
She replied,
"don't cry"
I broke.
My manhood crumbled before it had ever been erected
I never thought being with the person you loved could be so difficult
I never thought loving someone could ever not be easy.
That night I held her,
Till 3AM,
Till I thought our palms had been fused indefinitely,
Till I knew that every 3am from this moment onward
would drip with the thrill her laughter gave me
and the sincerity of her care,
and the sincerity of her care,
Till I knew that a piano,
which reminded me of her voice,
would always sound like her voice to me-
The chords of Sabbath hymns will always have new meaning
and jazz ballads played on my neighbour's untuned piano
will always be bittersweet.
I let her go
Though I
fought for her everyday till she married
And prayed for her as only friends do
everyday till she was buried.
Apparently love has defects,
Her husband's love had anger issues.
Guilt is a fence
A shadow
A six foot high wall
Turned upside down drilled into earth-
Perhaps I should have warned my daughter,
Told her that on a random day in June
She will meet someone who makes her heart leap
who cradles her with their words
who cradles her with their words
Who loves despite of who she is
Or what she's done,
And by summer's end she'd learn
That every passionate lover has a choice
It may be you
It could be someone else.
Perhaps I should have told her
Perhaps I should have told her
That usually, it's someone else.
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