Hearts Quick to Burn

II.

The next day after we left the motel, I tried to find Lizzy's account on Facebook. I still had hope we could keep talking abd be friends, though when I found her account the most recent posts were with her boyfriend Mike. So, she had a boyfriend. And she fucked with me, told me all those lies, while being sober.

I was telling myself that I hated her, but deep down I only hated the fact that I meant nothing to her.

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Long Island, NY.
October 24, 2011.

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I was drinking as usual with my boyfriend, watching television. I didn't feel safe living that life, but at least I tried to convince myself with drugs. Haven't heard from my family since my last birthday. I got the time to change to the point I couldn't even recognize myself. Two years ago, I would've punched myself in the face if I was acting like this.

Getting high with my friend Anna at the beach, drinking with my boyfriend... That was basically my routine. And I used to hate routine.

On the TV, they started talking about a new popular singer that became famous not long ago because of YouTube and other social media. Jake wasn't listening, taking white powder in a tiny plastic bag. I looked at him silently until he made eyes contact with me.

"People quickly found out that Lana Del Rey's real name was Elizabeth Grant."

Elizabeth Grant... That reminded me of my old friend Lizzy. But I didn't get the time to think about it, as Jake started kissing me. We began to make out.

"Before switching to Lana Del Rey when her album didn't find success in early 2010, her stage was Lizzy Grant."

Oh God.

I quickly pulled away from Jake's lips but he grabbed me tightly on the arm. I pushed his hand away but when I did so it met my cheek to slap me. It would happen everytime I didn't satisfy him, and I was used to it. I was always trying not to make him mad, but when he was drunk or high it would get harder.

So that wasn't quite the right time piss him off. I couldn't keep making out with him and all that stuff while knowing that Lizzy – or Lana, found herself a new life.

"Jake, please...," I murmed firmly, trying to keep my tears from falling.

He replied with a passionate kiss, and I found myself forced to let him do so. I figured out that I wouldn't have the tranquility that night to think about the blonde haired girl that stole my heart on the roof of the Lake Placid bar.

...

The next day I was searching all over the internet for informations and pics of Lana. I couldn't keep myself from listening to her lastest songs, and smiled to myself every time I recognized her voice.

She had changed a lot, but I couldn't tell if it was just physically or also mentally, like me. She wasn't blonde anymore and had auburn hair that was much longer than when I met her. She also changed her way of singing, now having a voice a bit more melancholic. Though her beauty didn't change at all – I mean, she was even more enigmatic, and it was making her even more charismatic.

I was craving for the taste of her lips and the tingling sensation from her touch.

But now she was a celebrity and she probably had forgotten me. Perhaps all the men at her feet was enough for her and I didn't even own a part of her memory anymore. I was just a one night stand among all the others.

She still had that huge part in my heart and my memory. If only she knew the amount of times I thought of going to one of her shows but stayed home, scared that seeing her would bring me just sadness.

Lana, I was still yours, even after two years.

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Atlanta, GA.
June 14, 2015.

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I got a ticket from a friend to see Lana months ago, and couldn't refuse it. It was the first time I was actually okay with going to her concert.

I managed to get close to the barrier, having a great view. When she stepped on stage, I could easily admire her. She had long dark hair and a blue dress. Her smile was still the same as six years ago, making my heart flutter with bittersweet memories.

The show was agreeable until the crowd asked her to sing 'Old Money'. My stomach turned. Even if some lyrics didn't connect with our story, I always thought it was written for me. Probably one of my many hallucinations.

"Blue hydrangea, cold cash divine
Cashmere, cologne and white sunshine
Red racing cars, Sunset and Vine
The kids were young and pretty..."

Her voice sounded so good accapella.

"Where have you been?
Where did you go?
Those summer nights seem long ago
And so is the girl you used to call
The queen of New York City."

A tear ran along my cheek. Not really because of the song, but because I realized I couldn't just forget her, even after six years. And that was fucking stupid. Maybe if I wasn't so young and immature when we met, it would've been easier to move on. But also, I didn't have an answer to most of my questions.

I could kiss every guy in town, I couldn't find any that matched my lips so perfectly as she did. I could get high with any guy, when I'd sober up I would always find myself thinking of how happy I was with her on that night.

And I could try to love, but I wasn't able to.

...

I was trying to forget all the things from my past, and to stop listening to Lana's songs. I swear to God I was doing slightly better. I stopped hanging out with drug addicts or dealers, and tried not to respond to all the messages asking me if I was dead.

The only thing that kept me connected to the past was the heart necklace Liz gave me. It was always hanging around my neck, I was just trying not to pay attention to it – though, sometimes, my hand would tighten around it to hold onto something when I felt overwhelmed. Not necessarily thinking of her.

When I'd walk around Coney Island, the lyrics of 'Mermaid Motel' would come into my mind. "Maybe we could go to Coney Island". But I went with everyone but her, who didn't even live in New York anymore. Good for her, she was probably happy in Los Angeles with her boyfriend Barrie.

I was able to move on, to stop waiting. Really. But it didn't make my life better either.

So, what was the problem?

Maybe I was the problem. Maybe I was fucked up, like my family said. But I was still alive, so I kept surviving, hoping I'd find the light at the end of the tunnel.

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