The stove pops and hisses while the homemade Chicken noodle soup slowly completes its boil. A Television in the background provides the only conversation that has taken place all day. Silence is golden? Not to the overly active mind it isn’t. Sometimes there just needs to be sound and sometimes there needs to be a lot of sound as I place the record on the turn table pressing the up button once, twice, three times to find the perfect volume that will drown out the frantic pace at which a lonely mind will race while not pissing of the downstairs neighbor.
The Lone Bellow. I love this band. From the first moment I heard them I fell in love. The pain they sang about spoke to me directly and this was before she left. I have enjoyed every album. I unwrapped the new album, released but a short time ago, but sat in the plastic unopened as I was unsure when I would be able to listen to it. I reviewed the song titles on the back of the record cover, yes I bought it in vinyl, yes vinyl sounds better, no I don’t run around telling everyone that, well I mean aside from you I guess if you want to get technical. “Come Break my Heart again” what a title. I was unsure if it would be a good song for me to listen to at the moment but I like to push things so I went straight for it. Skipping all of the other songs I placed the needle down and sat back with my glass of wine, okay bottle, no glass, I didn’t feel like dirtying another cup (the kids would put a hash tag here but I am just going to say that this is my life as a single man). Plus isn’t there something almost guttural or super masculine about swigging straight from the bottle? I mean not in this instance because it was a nice Malbec with hints of Dark Cherry and Blackberry that left a nice lingering finish. Yeah I get it.
“This is why you are single, man.”
“It’s okay, I understand”
“No seriously you just tried to portray yourself as manly then went into hints of fruitiness? You will confuse the reader.”
My apologies to the reader. To THE reader, I will get back on track now.
I was supposed to go and see them in 2015 with two friends of mine. I was really looking forward to the show but some news came in early December that kind of shook me a bit and hanging out with a friend and his wife wasn’t all that appealing to me at the time. It had nothing to do with them; I just didn’t want to be around couples. I passed on the show. It took me two years to finally catch up to them after missing them by one day when I was on vacation the following year and missing them again as I traveled for business later that same year. This year though I had my tickets, sorry, ticket, not plural. I went alone, sat in the seat alone, watched one of my favorite bands, alone, and I had a great time. It felt good for me to finally see them, especially because her news stopped me prior and now it was my time and my turn to do something that I wanted to do and see the band that I wanted to see. I walked in, went straight to the closest seats I could find (it was general admission) and I asked the really attractive woman who was sitting two seats down if anyone was sitting here. She said no and smiled, I smiled back (I think) and sat down. Shortly after that she got up and left so while you and I thought maybe I could strike up a conversation and meet someone, reality set back in quickly and there I was strictly watching the show, which was fine because that was actually what I was there for.
Then the song started, the one I had put on the record.
“She said you smell like cigarettes
Just like the one I left
You never comb your hair
I always make your bed”
I will break down how this song describes me almost line by line.
She said you smell like cigarettes – I used to smoke
Just like the one I left – I got left
You never comb your hair – I am bald, I never comb my hair
I always make your bed – I never saw the point of making a bed, I am just going to mess it up again.
You see! It is uncanny how much they are writing about me. Okay so maybe that is a bit egotistical but I have to have something right? Anyway, the song goes into how the writer just wants his heart broken again so he can feel something, anything again, at least this is how I interpret it, maybe I am way off. The first time I put this song on from the record I delayed myself from listening to, I cried. It turned me back inside myself to look at how I was really living. I was/ am going through the emotional motions. I am showing happiness when I don’t feel it, I am showing excitement when it isn’t there, and I am showing depression when…well that is probably real. Either way, I wasn’t feeling anything. It was like I was given a pill that voided out all emotions from my being, only for me to act the part I think that others want me to play. At work, I am the positive one, the calm one, when internally I am the negative guy who is screaming “I DON’T GIVE A SHIT ABOUT YOUR PROBLEMS”. Fortunately I have something resembling self control at work which suppresses my urge to throw a giant tantrum telling everyone to just Shut the Fuck up for a moment. How do I hide it? I joke around with some people and laugh. Best way to hide depression is to make others laugh, comedians do it all of the time.
I almost emailed her to ask her to come back just so she would say “No” and I could feel that pain again. So I could feel the burn of the words as they entered my brain, running down to my toes destroying everything in its path. “A heart, lets blow that thing up! What are these things here, lungs? Get um. Oh he won’t be needing this thing between his legs anymore let’s destroy it!” I wanted to feel something, even if it was the pain again. I had it all written out, telling her how much I loved her, how we were good together, how our lives have not been as good since she left. It was all bullshit just to get her to say that it wasn’t going to happen, that her life is better without me, and that I needed to move on already. I wanted, almost needed to feel something again, even if it was that. As I reread the email, I made corrections to the grammar, I rearranged sentences, I deleted bits here and there, rewrote some sections, and then took a moment and walked away. After listening to one side of another record I came back to it, I hit the delete button, took a swig of my super manly Sauvignon Blanc (with floral hints), took a drag of my E-Cigarette, exhaled the vapor out of my nose then pausing to blow a super cool vape ring, and I walked away.
Maybe that is progress, maybe it is giving up, or maybe just maybe I don’t want to feel that again. Maybe I don’t want the pain to bully me any longer. I could, possibly, be ready to not have my face shoved in shit, my books knocked out of my hands as I walk the halls, to not have my choice of clothing mocked, or have my towel ripped off in the locker room while everyone else laughs. Or Maybe I was scared that I wouldn’t know what to do if she said she wanted to give it a try? I have no idea and I will never find out. I know I hate feeling this way and for so long. The blank feeling that is my day to day is tiresome. I have found that feeling nothing is more exhausting than feeling too much of something. I have, since I was a child, been called “emotional” as if it was a bad thing. Not feeling anything feels worse. So as I sit here, with another dating website profile filled out partially contemplating if I will hit that submit button again or once again hit that delete button, the idea of feeling something again is appealing. I would give anything to even get into a fight with someone just so we can talk about making up, then apologize and move on. If I could have that for a relationship right now I would take it. Just fighting and making up, knowing it wouldn’t last because that is bullshit, but it would be something. Anyway, if there are any single women out there reading this that just want an argument and then a reconciliation, message me, I am sure we could find something to disagree on.
I leave you with the chorus for you to contemplate on your own. Am I off, am I spot on. Either way, they are a great band and you should really check them out.
“Come break my heart again
So I can feel it
I think you need it
I know you mean it
Come break my heart again
So I can feel it
I think you need it
Come and break my heart again”