"Why do you keep doing this to yourself?"
"I didn't know I was doing anything" I say to the female voice in the box propped to my ear. I'm busy with this stupid robot... who refuses to come out right, can't she just be happy for me?
"how am I hurting myself this week, Charlotte?"
An exasperated sigh... I can tell she put her fingers to her eyes, but I'm not sure why. Maybe you pick up on these things after a while.
That same 'khaaaaahhh' sigh.
"It's not a thing charlie" I insist.
again
with the khaaaaahhh'
"Yes it is Arthur! and you're going to set yourself up just like you ALWAYS DO! Arthur, I love you, you're my friend but STOP DOING THIS SHIT TO YOURSELF! You'll just wind up hurting yourself, and come crying and whining to me like the mess you always are!"
"...yeah?" It's always kinda funny, and scary when you piss off a 110lb artsy girl over the phone. With a girl like Charlotte, you're never sure what's going to set her off... maybe when someone screws with her second favorite writer...
"YES! JESUS ARTHUR YOU NEVER FUCKING LEARN!"
"...not even a little bit?" I only pause to make it seem like I haven't heard this all before, I can picture her now, half dressed, out of her makeup, watching something inane on youtube with the volume down, spinning with rage in her office chair.
She's been ranting about this and that, and how I'll burn myself all over again for several minutes now, with me busy at this impossible doodle. 'just like last time, and remember carey? and remember Sophie? and remember Laura? and remember-' ... christ she's going to be at this a while. I wonder how much of a spectacle there would be if she were here to see this shitty grin engulfing my cheeks. I could let her go all afternoon like this...
but I won't.
"Charlie-"
"WHAT!?" She barks into my speaker. The pencil between my lips is sent flailing to the floor by the sudden shout.
"Nothing, go ahead" I say distracted. I pick the pencil back up and put it back to paper... somehow I'll figure out what I'm missing here
"What was I saying?"
"That I'm a mess of a catastrophe, and I should stop going after the illusive hart of love"
another sigh, another palm to her face.
"That's not what I'm saying. just... I dunno, don't you think its time for something new, something... different, someone who's not going to just drag you down too?"
"I thought that's what I was doing." ... I'm not sure if I meant that... but I said it anyway. There's a long silence.
A long damn silence.
"Charlie?" she's still got her hand to her face... I can't imagine, but she's probably crying.
"Yeah?" she finally says, with her chords as unconstricted as possible.
"I love you."
"I love you too."
"Good- now stop worrying about me so much."
"Stop worrying how am I-"
"Charlie- kitty, please... I'm being as careful as I can with this one... I promise. Its hard to not jump in feet first with this stuff, you know that about me."
a different kind of sigh... more of a Hhuuuuw
"..okay. Okay, I just... I don't want you to get hurt."
"Me neither." I say sincerely... still perplexed by a knee joint.
"I gotta go."
"Yeah, text me when you're free."
"will do."
Click
buttons pressed, pictures dissapear.
And there's half a dozen women suddenly over my shoulder... breathing down my neck, whispering sweet broken promises... fucking other men after me.
Wailing over the great distance and damage of my vague and veiled heart.
When I thought all along, I had shared everything.
Maybe they just didn't understand...
maybe I...
Maybe I do this to myself.
My own sigh.
The pencil clatters to my desk, defeated, and I sit and stare at the ceiling for a great many empty hours.
The curse of the romantic.
The bane of the martyr.
am I...
what have I done to myself?
To allow such phantoms...
I think to reach for the phone, instead my hand strays to the bottle of sparkling, waxy capsules.
Glittering like gems.
Like promises of candy.
Where will you hide me today?
as the first slides from my tender tongue, down into my throat, past my past, past my ego, past my self.
And I'll just stare into this ceiling
my beautiful furies singing orgasmically as they claw out my eyes and entrails.
aware, blisfully numb of the pain
slipping
falling
sinking
caught gently by hands that don't belong to me.
carried to some place safe, and sedated.
