She's a beautiful mess
With a huge chest
An agent of functional chaos
A blonde bombshell
With a few crotch goblins
A job-searching gem
With no direction in life
No pull towards something
Except to be a great mom and to please the people around her
But the men she chooses
Are the worst kind
They take her for granted
And belittle her
Those cheating kind of men
The worst kind . . .
But here she is
In my bed again
Complaining about those men
While she lays naked on my arm
And I have just enough charm
To keep her here on my numb arm
Only slightly alarmed
By the stories of all these other men
She says she hates them all
Except for me
I am the supposed to be The Anomaly
But as I lay here with my ‘Assholes Live Forever’ hoodie on
I can't help but think
That someday she will hate me too. . .
She sits criss-cross on my bed
With a small blanket covering her
Her new boss is cutting her hours
And she thinks it’s because she didn’t go out for drinks with him the other night
Her thumbs frantically type along her phone
As she text him
So I pull out my phone
And write the first part of this poem
She notices after a minute or two
And asks me what I am doing
“Nothing,” I say.
“That’s a lie.”
“Okay, I am writing.”
“About what?”
“Nothing.”
“. . .Y ou really aren’t going to tell me?”
“No.”
“Why?”
I shrug.
“Is it about me?”
“Nope.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“Okay.”
“Let me read it.”
“Nuh-uh.”
She ends up wearing me out
And I give her my phone
She starts to read it and immediately laughs out loud
“Oh my god.”
Her hand covers her mouth as she reads
She laughs again.
And then she gets quiet. . .
Tears start to roll down her face
My stomach sinks
She keeps reading
And ends it with a big sigh
The blanket slips off of her tits
“I love this so much. You really see me. But I am not usually this chaotic. . .”
She hands my phone back to me
“Why do you think I’ll hate you?” she asks me
“Because I am not that different from all the other men that you hate.”
“Yes you are?”
“I don’t cheat, but still. . .”
“You aren’t the asshole that you think you are.”
“Everyone keeps telling me that lately.”
“I get that you were this fighter, but you’re a good guy now.”
I stay silent, not sure what to say.
I don’t want to tell her about all the other women that I see. . .
We fuck again and talk for another hour
Before I take her home
She screams when the second song that I play comes on
“Is this Evan Horner??”
“You know Evan??”
“He’s my favorite right now!”
“Mine too.”
“No one else has even heard of him!”
“Yeah.”
“Dude. . . this is so crazy!”
I can’t help but smile.
“Do you know this song?”
I play another one for her
“I love this one too! Pull over and park.”
“Huh?”
“Let's listen to music together for a while.”
“Okay.”
I park and she plays a song
And then I play a song
And even though she is chaotic mess
I really dig her
And this moment
Is a really nice one
“You need to be in love,” she says.
“Huh?”
“But you won’t be vulnerable anymore, will you?”
“. . . I don’t know.”
“You need to open up to someone.”
“I try to.”
“No you don’t.”
“The problem is that the people that I choose don’t choose me.”
“Someone will.”
“Maybe. . .”
I drop her off at her Ex-boyfriends house
Where she lives right now
And drive back home
And I sing Evan Horner songs on my way home
And even though his songs are sad and deep and very relatable
I sing them with joy.
CH 3/14/24
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