“It’s about her isn’t it?”
“Huh?”
“The song. You wrote a break up song about your ex. You obviously miss her.”
“So, a lot of musicians do that. It doesn’t mean that I still have feelings for her.”
“Right. That uterus is coming along nicely…”
She was right; I missed my ex. But who wouldn’t, you spend enough time with someone and eventually you can’t picture a world without them. Or at least, you don’t want to.
See I’ve always been the romantic type, the type to plan every detail of a first date down to which beach to sit at depending on the rising and setting of the sun. And I was quite the perfectionist most of the time. But when it came to Alexis, plans went out the window and I relied on dumb luck and circumstance. Like a well timed rose vendor passing by, charging a fortune for a single blood-red rose that would probably be dead before the next date. But you weren’t buying the rose; you were buying the memory.
I’ve been told that I over-plan and over-think everything in my life, which does have its virtues. But there’s no place for planning in a relationship, at least not at this stage in life. And that’s what I loved about her, the unpredictability of it.
She, very much like our dates, was never planned. As her mother persisted to remind me whenever I’d spend a night with her. Alexis, not her mother, like that needed clearing up. But nothing was a certainty when it came to her; we could start the day watching movies in bed and end it on the top of a mountain watching the sun setting on the horizon. She never planned more than five minutes into the future. And even when she tried to make plans, they would usually be forgotten or interrupted by some unforseen distraction.
Marli, however, was the very straight forward type, and she expected everyone to be as straight forward with her as she was with them. But it’s not the easiest of chores when the truth is a pill that even you don’t want to swallow, or in some cases it felt more like a suppository.
“Zack… Zack!”
She was becoming impatient. If I didn’t answer in the next few seconds I’d cop something hard to the forehead. Usually an open hand, but she had her fair share of choices this particular instance; the whipping action of a jumper, a metallic guitar capo… The guitar itself…“Yeah? Sorry Marli, I wa-“
“You gotta get your mind off the exes mate. It used to be cute how you’d mole about it for a week or so, but you’ve gotta accept that life sucks sometimes, and move on.”
“I have moved on, I’m a new man. Zack two-point-o.”
“Bullshit. Lies upon lies. We’ve gotta get your mind occupied before you go crazy or something… Oh wait, never mind.”
“Smart ass,” I glared at her. “Alright, alright, what do you suggest? A Maccas run?”
“Well that’s a start.”
YOU ARE READING
Deep Creek
Paranormal"I had no idea where I wanted to be. In truth, I didn't want to be anywhere. In my mind, existence was optional... And at times, confusing. So I planned to do what I always did in this situation; I'd drive. No particular direction, just onto the nea...
