I Sing For You

Chapter 13

I don't remember saying anything... Maybe I flipped out on him, or maybe I just silently left.  he was so drunk that he didn't even say a word to me.  He didn't try and stop me from leaving, he just let me go.  

But I wanted him to come running up behind me, telling me that he really had fallen for me too, and that it wasn't all a lie, but somehow, I just pushed those thoughts away, thinking that my heart was trying to foul me.  It was a lie.  Everything was a lie.  I felt so stupid.  

I walked home, leaving my jacket there so I was freezing, but I didn't mind the cold this time. It didn't seem to affect me.  The only thing that crossed my mind was "Get home.  You can forget everything there.  You can play music,". I told myself that over and over, but it was hard to believe that I could make it.  

At the time, I wished I was dead.  I wished I had died of a broken heart.  There was nobody for me to love, or live for.  At one time it was my parents, then just my mom, and Ray kept me going. But now, I was alone. I didn't even have my cursed expressionless mother who just sat and stared at the wall all day, but did in fact listen to me.

I finally did get home.  I shivered, expecting to be sick the next day, but I could care less.  I got a hot bath, unable to even stand in he shower because I was so cold. My body stung all over from the hot water, but it felt good in a way, almost like I deserved the stinging pain for being so stupid.  

After I got out and changed into some sweats, and a long sleeved shirt to warm up, I made my way over to the kitchen, thinking about making hot cocoa, but I couldn't make it.  It reminded me of him.

I walked downstairs, with nothing in my stomach, and sat on the piano seat.  I stared at the keys, thinking.

I realized that I'd done exactly what I had told myself not to do sense my dad died.  I had let someone into my heart again.  I let them love me, and I let myself love them.  I never did it because I knew I'd get hurt.  I should have listened to myself.

But this was worse than any pain I had ever felt.  When my parents died, it hurt, but somehow I had expected both of their deaths.  I knew that my dad was in the war, and that he could get shot in action.  Though, when it did happen, I actually lost him, and reality hit.  Same with my mom's death.  I knew she'd eventually give up, but when it happened, reality hit.  I was just too scared to admit the fact that I knew.

This was something that I'd waited my entire life for.  It was the topic of half of the songs I'd sing about.  I had found love.  I thought I'd found love.  And it was real, for me.  To have it taken away from you, along with all of this other pain, just makes a person want to be done.

More than anything, I wanted him back with me.  I wanted to be in his arms again, with his lips on mine, but he didn't come.

I reached my hands above the black and white keys, like I was going to play something, but I took my hands away, and sobbed.  No lyrics, or instrument could describe what I was feeling right now.  It was rough.  I tried to make room in my heart for this, but it was impossible

Then I realized that I couldn't even make music.

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By the end of the weekend, I knew that I wanted to forget that any of this happened.  I wanted to start my life fresh, as if I had never met him.

He left me messages, and tried to call me, asking me what he did wrong.  I'd read them, but never reply.  I guess reality hit him on Saturday night, because he started leaving texts, and voice mails apologizing, and asking to see me.  I even heard him knock on the door, and try and pick the lock, but he couldn't.  I sat in my basement the entire weekend and listened, deciding that even though I wanted him back, I didn't want to be hurt worse.