Caligula and Caesar's American Adventure

Transatlanticism (Cae)

Have you ever felt just awful, and wondered if someone else feels the same way, that you’re not quite alone? Cause this whole country makes me feel so damn alone and yet I’ve got Cali right by my side and I swear, I love her to death but sometimes I’m not sure she gets it. But now I am, actually. Earlier today, on the way to wherever the fuck we’re on the way to (we’re not there yet – we took a long break at a petrol station), a song came on the radio though I don’t know what it was, and it was about being really far away or apart or something. Anyway, this happened:

Me: “This song is so true.”

Cali: “Death Cab for Cutie.”

Me: “What?”

Cali: “The band.”

Me: “Do you just know all music ever or what?”

Cali: “I know good music.” And she turned it up and hummed along, and I took a deep breath.

Me: “Can I say something?”

Cali: “If it’s about fucking wotsits, then no.”

Me: “No, I was being serious.”

Cali: “Kay. Shoot.” Or maybe she said “Cae, shoot.” I have no idea. Probably the first one.

Me: “This will sound weird, but I feel alone. And I know I have you and I love you, I do, but I’m sad.”

She braked really hard and my seatbelt jarred. Some dick behind us must have fallen asleep on his horn, it went on for so long. After flipping him off, she pulled into a layby.

Cali: “You’re sad?”

Me: “I don’t know.”

She reached across and grabbed my wrists really tight and pulled my sleeves up, and jabbed the faded white lines. “That is sad. That is sad.” She pressed her fingers over the old scars and began to cry. “You’re not sad, you’re lost.” She covered my wrists with her hands. “Ok?”

And I just said “Ok,” and she nodded. “Are you sad?”

She hesitated, as though she could even say no after such a pause. “Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because once you’re gone, I’m on my own again.”

“I’m here now.”

But she got out of the car and I thought she was just … going, but she came round and opened my door and pulled me out and we walked for a couple of minutes down into this kind of forest thing, and she just sat down.

“Why’re we here?”

“Because it’s nice.”

“Why’re we really here?”

Cali just sighed and lay down and I lay next to her and it was starting to get dark and I hate the dark so I held her hand, or maybe she held mine. I’m not sure who needed it most at that point.

“There’s a place like this by my house,” she said. I have never been to her house and I’m not sure I ever will. “Sometimes I think about going there and just…” She trailed off and I didn’t push her because I knew what she was going to say and I didn’t want to hear it.

Me: “You couldn’t.”

Cali: “I wouldn’t.”

Me: “You shouldn’t.”

Cali: “I can’t.”

I don’t know how long we stayed there but now it’s dark and Cali’s driving but she looks tired and I think we might stop soon. We crossed the border into New Hampshire a while ago but now there are no streetlamps and Cali’s got the headlights on low so I can’t see where we are. I think I’m just gonna go to bed.