i sometimes remember him.
i remember me...16 or so... laying on the couch. his head was on my stomach. he was talking slower than normal- about how he could see us one day settled. how i would be good for him. his big dream was to get some land and have a trailer. i remember being so sad. that was the highest his dreams could take him. i wanted way more than that... i wanted to be in new york, writing plays, writing a book, riding subway stations, throwing art shows, breathing in the city. culture. and all he wanted was a god damn trailer. at that moment i knew i had to run. but i was never given the tools. as of now i have only run approximately 48 miles from that town. it seems like a world away but i have come to realize it is not far enough. i still let that place...the stories...the memories sit on my skin. and lay in my head.
if i remember correctly two months later. he had someone else in his truck in my front yard. yelling at me. i wasn't speaking to him...since he stole a truck and had me in it. that's another story all together. but i remember yelling at him for some swastika he tattooed on his throat. i slapped him. my friend spit on him if i remember correctly. when i tried to get in my car and take off... his caught up in his truck. swerved in front of me. i slammed on my breaks and hit my steering wheel. he came running out of his truck ...grabbed my keys out of the ignition. threw them in the street. that poor girl in his passenger seat is all i could think. he flashed some gun aroudn and started yelling about leaving him. i cannot remember what was said...
all i really remember was thinking i wonder if that girl has bigger dreams than a trailer with some land? or is she only capable of wanting the things he wants? or is he even capable of opening up so honestly to another person... the whole situation was sad.
i have heard a few times he finally got that land. good for him.