Spurs for Studs.

26

It's been all of 12 days since I've landed here. Kristie hasn't sent me one message , and sure I could reach out. But maybe I'm selfish and I wanted to be chosen. I was tempted to reach out the front office at Houston to extend my stay but the thought of never not going back was more daunting than facing Kristie and all the bridges I was actively torching. How would I forgive myself for everything I didn't become. To throw away a book spewing of hope after the second chapter. Oh to be so careless.  To drop everything Momma has pushed me towards. To throw away every opportunity to get out of this god forsaken town. Even the thought of giving up everything was far to scary to be real. 

Walking out the backdoor with the sun still behind the trees as the sky twisted marvelous shades of vibrant oranges and yellow. Pulling my phone from my pocket, just about dead from the night before. Tapping on Kristie's contact and letting the device ring, Like a taunting school boy. And as the phone rang and rang up until it went to voicemail the thought came to me. No person deserved this. I realized that included Kristie. I couldn't subject her to the same pain my mother suffered just by  being with my father. I couldn't ruin her the way the way my daddy did. 

My father was never absent- physically that is. Emotionally that was a different story. His anger was present, but his softness had left him from a young age; sure he wasn't made that way. The world turned him that way, the same way it was turning me. One day at a time. I am and will always be his eldest daughter. One bound to repeat his mistakes in the same order, to spit hate like chew, and bash Ol' boys outside of bars. I am him and nothing I do will change the blood coursing through my veins.  For what is the purpose oof being my fathers daughters if not to sit and stew in the grief and anger. 

fifteen minute later Kristie calls me back, heavy sighs and long yawns cascading through the telephone line. She speaks first. "What's up?" exhaustion suffocating her words as they passed parted lips.  I take a breath to stabilize myself as I sit in the barn.  "I'm sorry I haven't called. Things have been wild down here. I need to apologize for just up and leaving."

"Are you fucking kidding me!" She roars like its the stupidest thing in existence.  "Are you seriously just now calling. I've been up for days waiting for even a text. You just up and left. Just decided one morning to leave without consulting me. How fucking dare you. The audacity to just call me at fucking 3 in the morning to apologize after I've spent countless nights crying myself to sleep thinking you were dead. So no Coal I don't accept your apology. You left, and I wanted you still, Yet I deserve someone who is willing to stay." 

I sit for a long while taking it in. "Look Kristie I'm sorry okay. I knew I should've called you sooner but what was I supposed to say?"

She cuts in with a fiery rage. "You were supposed to say anything from I miss you, I got here safe, I'm thinking of you. Or to just say anything. So no Coal I don't accept your apology, just stay in Alabama for all I care." The call drops soon after as stray tears make their way down my chin. I knew I fucked up- just not to the full extent of how I fucked up. 

What was I supposed to do now. I didn't want to break up with her. I knew she is the best thing that's ever gonna happen to me. So fucking widdle me down, shave away all the parts you hate about me until only the good remains. Sand me down until I can never hurt you again. Momma walked out into the barn, steaming cup of coffee in hand, held in a chipped tractor supply mug from years back. The logo fading and chipping away with every wash. 

"What's wrong dear?" It was so comforting and soft, a response I didn't deserve. 

"Momma. I fucked up. Kristie's madder than a heifer in heat and I caused it. I think I fucked everything up. I don't now how to fix it. Momma, how do I fix it." It was desperate and needy, but so was she. Momma stared just about through me as he hobbled towards the bail of hay I was sitting on. "What did you do?"

"Well I just kinda left, you told me you could use some help down here so I jumped on the first plane and I sorta haven't called her since I left." Momma nods with a longing stare. "Why would you do that? Why didn't you call her?"

Taking a long pause, eyes dancing around the barn, wanting a blackhole to form under me and take me away. "I don't know. I guess I just wanted her to call me first. To ask? I guess. I mean is that so bad?"

"Nicole... You are your daddy's daughter in all sense of the damn word. You can't jut run from your problems and then be shocked when others don't fix them. I see how that girl looks at you. It's not over unless she said so. Now before you get on a plane back out there. Giver her a day or two too just be mad at you because lord knows she can't old a grudge against you. Than fly out and make it up to her, take her out on a nice date, and talk. That's about all she wants from you- she wants to know why you keep on running away. And also talk to Abi, she's been blowing up my phone wondering how you are."

"I will momma. Thank you. Now I need to get started on my chores."

"Get going. Breakfast will be ready when you're done." With that Momma headed back towards the house hobbling across the red clay, years of hard work left her joints in a less than optimal state.

Working through my chores I thought of everything I would need to tell Kristie. How I can't turn out like my daddy. How I have his need for distance, and an inability to talk about my emotions. How the only emotion I feel is anger. How I'm always angry and I can't get over Luke's death or my Daddy's. How I'm terrified of hurting her even though I keep doing it. How I have to tell her that her smile is the best part of my week and her eyes tell many a story I could never read. 

Driving towards tractor supply for more feed I take note of the flowers on the side of the road. For what is art if not the blooming blue bonnets lining the interstate and whispering pines that rattled in the morning light. For what is art is not everywhere and everything. Lord If only I could tell Kristie that she is the art I wish to study until the end of my days. She is and will always be muse even if I'm a million miles away. Lord I wish she knew that I can't imagine a life in which we don't work out. 

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