part 15
Subj: I’m so sorry
To: MackAttack
From: bopeep
Date: 01/14 9:14 p.m.
Dear Mack,
I’m sorry. I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean to be so mean…..or whatever it was I was. I guess I just got so upset because you seemed to do it again to me. Like having the rug pulled out from my dreams and hopes. But, I guess it was just me hoping, huh?
Sorry. Sorry. Sorry.
Sometimes I say stuff that I don’t totally mean. I mean, it’s good that you’ve met someone, and that you’ve got your mind off of the D girl. I mean, it’s not like it’s serious, you just met her, right?
You know, I still have that piano concerto that you wrote for me. Once I brought it to the Clifford Hotel, in the hotel bar is this grand piano and a black guy who just sits there and sits there and plays music all night, from sheets. So, I brought the music to him so he’d play it for me. I sat there and cried and cried and cried while he played it. Then I gave him $10.00, as a tip, and took the music and folded it back up and left. My makeup was smeared and mascara was probably running down my face. I was so embarrassed. I’ll never do that again. But, it was worth it. It was the only time I’ve heard it, except the time you played it for me, right after you wrote it.
No, you’re right, I don’t know all that it means, or the little details of it. You’d say nuances…..wouldn’t you? But, I know how it makes me feel, and it reminded me of the day that we laid all day in bed staring at the ceiling and laughing and joking and talking. I know we had many days like that, but there was this one…..it was a day after we’d had a huge fight…..and I’d come over to break up. I mean, I figured that’s what was going to happen anyway. The night before we had gone to that play….I don’t remember the name of it, but it was just awful. Horrid. I hated it. You didn’t like it but thought it had merit. You thought the plot twist was interesting, and started talking about that and the characters…..until I just screamed “It stunk, it stunk. I don’t want to talk about a stinking play that was boring and I had to sit through.” You took this very personally. I was probably just in a pissy mood, but you took it like I’d shoved a knife in your heart right there. It was stony cold silence the whole way home. I tried to say a few things…..but you’d just give me a quick, icy cold glance then look back at the road.
I could always tell when you were upset because you put both your hands toward the top of the wheel, like at 11am and 1 O’clock. When you’re happy you have your hands on the bottom at 4pm and 7pm. When you’re distracted it’s right at drivers education 3 O’clock and 9 O’clock.
You were so upset with me. Do you remember? That night you dropped me off and just drove off. No goodbye, no kiss, not a word. I had a terrible sinking feeling, so I went home and packed up all your stuff…..and didn’t sleep at all that night. I called you the next morning and said I had to come over. You didn’t say much. Just okay. So, I walked into your room and had this big box of stuff…and I started pulling things out like “this is the doggie that you won at the fair, but I still think you cheated somehow, or gave the guy a twenty so he’d give it to you.” This is the g-string that you wrapped up at Christmas so that I’d open it at my grandmothers house…as a joke, only my grandmother thought it was a slingshot replacement sling, and didn’t think a thing about it except to ask me if I’d shoot at some squirrels that are bothering her.” And, “this is the T-shirt that you wore about a zillion times in gym class, and I am the one who stole it from your locker so that I could sleep with it. I sort of used it like a security blanket, but my Mom washed it, so now it’s just a gym shirt again.” And, “this is the photo that I took of your butt, but you should probably keep the picture of your butt, because I don’t know that you know that I have a picture of your butt. It’s a cute butt, though.” “This is your watch that you loaned me when mine was broken, but I didn’t give it back because I liked yours better than mine. But mine is fixed, so I guess I should give it back.” And, the other stuff, too.
But you just sat there and looked at me so weird. I mean, I was probably crying when I was talking and I was really upset. But you didn’t say anything. You just grabbed me and we made love. Totally animal love, do you remember? We were all over, and noisy, and I thought that since your Mom was home she’d hear….but you didn’t seem to care. Then we laid in bed and laughed and talked. All day. I think it was the first time that I realized that two people can be mad…..or one person can be mad….and it doesn’t mean that they break up and it’s over.
It’s not like that with MY Mom, because it hadn’t been that long since my Dad, and then my first step -dad, then my second step-dad had rapidly been ejected from the house. Mack, what I’m trying to say, is I was mad at you and wrote you a mean, well, sort of mean letter, and I’m sorry. You really mean a lot to me and I just don’t want to lose you, and I don’t want this other girl to take my place, or make me not be able to communicate with you. Life is hard enough without that happening again.
I haven’t heard from you so I’m a little scared that you’re driving around with your hands at 11 and 1 O’clock. Are you? Are you that mad at me?
Please write me, Mack.
Love, Aimee
Aimee Is A Little Crazy 