Where We Belong

As if I had Plans

I was damn happy to be home, but something like a fly I could hear but not identify had found residence in my mind. I felt so damn lonely as well, and I had no idea why.

I found my way to the bedroom to take a nap. I looked at my calendar, then chuckled to myself. As if I had any plans.

I lay, smoking, without an incentive to move even a tendon. I had no family and some friends, but I was so replaceable and it may be nice for them to be rid of me, the asshole.

Hell, I could lay here and smoke until I starved and then i'd be a bunch of hollow bones. No one would notice for days; after about two months my neighbors would grow suspicious of a stench.

"It's just someone's grill, Patty. Smells like pork."

I drifted to sleep in hazy thoughts of my neighbors screaming and people reading in the paper a decomposing man was found in his sheets, perhaps even on fire because of his careless cigarette, and smelling of overcooked pork.

I woke back up. Christ I need to stop getting so stoned.

I didn't go to the bar for two days, some strange will inside of me hadn't want to drink. I wasn't sure why. I felt as lonely as ever, and my simple life of nights out, chickenscratch song lyrics on my napkins, and hangovers hadnt bothered me before. Hell, maybe it was being back in the music industry, seeing all the tall men with nice hair put together. Well, one of them.

But at a certain point even my willpower was drained, I never leave behind a drop, and I found my way to a local bar.

I was sitting in my usual spot, now scanning the bar for friends when my eyes twitched as though scratched by a flyswatter. I couldn't believe it, who was sitting there.

Dan. Alone. With a drink in hand.

Now I have to make a choice. Do I greet him?

He catches my line of sight. Shit. I walk over to him and sit down, intentionally turning myself so his legs don't brush mine.

"Hey Ross, how are you?" He asks. His voice has lost its polite coating, and I felt as though now he actually cared about my response.

"Swell." Its such a bullshit answer I almost laugh. "You?"

He chuckles. "Swell as well." He pauses. "Hey, I think that's one of those... whatdya call its?"

"Oh, like racecar, right? Same way spelt backwards."

"Yeah, its going to drive me insane all night if we don't think of what that's called."

I guess I'm down for a night with this guy.

"Same." I shake my head. "So where's the girlfriend?" I blurt. Shit. I take a sip of beer.

"Girl's night out." He shrugs. "Her friends don't take no for an answer."

"Some friends." I say. Everyone who knows me gets that I do what I want, when. I don't put up with others telling me how to live my life. And look where my judgement has led me! I take a sarcastic enduced sip.

"They've been tight since high school. Insane." He shakes his head. Then I feel silence that hurts my throat.

"Its a palindrome." I say, feigning an epiphany.

"That's it!" He says, then slams his drink on the table.

"You know what's bullshit about high school?"

Normally I wouldn't give a flying shit. "What?"

"When I was a kid, I'd go downstairs and see all these trophies of my Dad's, and prom photos and smiles and good times. And he wouldn't shut up about how I was living the best years of my life, and how he knew I was having a great old time, and shit like that. But when I went, there weren't any glory days. And you know, it looked like it. But then you see even the star quarterback with bad grades and a secret boyfriend, and its not so glamorous. And if I ever had kids, I'm not going to tell them its a perfect place and that with good times there, they can be happy for life. I'm going to make damn sure they know they are just as unsure of themselves as I was."

"Oh." I say in response, because I see his point, but can't relate. "So what were you like in highschool?"

Dan laughs. "A dork. Had the haircut and read comics and I preformed a bad Queen cover in the talent show."

I snorted. "You covered Queen!? How badly were you beaten up?"

"A little." He admits, amused.

"Is this real life?" He sings, face amused, and I sing along with him, enjoying a nice of pointless talk and dorky references.

I leave without finishing my first bottle.