The Best Thing In Life Was Him

There Was Only RICHARD.

My Dearest RICHARD,

Hello from all the girls!

  Almost every girl who recognized my married name asked about Richard.  How is Richard or tell Richard I said hello.  I did tell him the third time I talked to him.   Juli Kelly says hello, I said.  He said, "Who?"   Then changed the subject.  I didn't tell her about the response he gave.  He was in a band, the guitar player.  He was kinda of handsome, the oldest boy.  He had a drinking problem from childhood on.   One thing the girls never talked or mentioned was the drinking he did.   Maybe they did not know.  In public, alone in his room, in presence of adults, by the music playing in the hallway, the time he was taking a snort while he was in line at the cafeteria. Ah, how the times play black memories, unfinished memoirs, an 11111half written love poem, the untouched biography of tiny tim meading , still in its wrapper from the factory. The score was animal factory, 24, the skins, 12. What a sieve that collander was. It was might fine wine at the speakers last night. Blue Nun, even the lady get a tipsy cup. Heaven stood by and fell out of line. Feed the despair, run for the hills, it is a scary paradox of evil vs. grand old opry. Very chilling to me. She knew, yet, she betrayed our friendship.  Looks like you lost. But really in reality, I did. I was falling hard, real smack down on my chin. Thanks for the betrayal. It made me think you are a rag doll. No feeling for no one but yourself. Who cares who you sink in this game of battleship. Not I, said the chicken. Not I, said the duck. Not I, said the swan. Me, me, me, said the piglet. Har, you left me hanging with the strap out to there.  The best thing to happen this year was him happening to take a chance by fishing around to see if I would or wouldn't. I did not really want to but I did say I would, so I did. Then I never look back at all. Never felt bad about it, it was the way it was for a reason and as it turns out, I really began to enjoy it. The subterfuge and the joy-riding were a kick and the chance we were living, breathing, doing it, every time we had a few moments. He wanted her though, can't you see the writing on the wall?  She was better, more exciting? Better in bed?  Spread the legs wider, baby, take it all.  I oftened dream a different life, one where aron was my man.  It was surreal and opaque, the way it had to be.  How could I see through his transgressions, his infidelity to my dream of him.  EASY.  Lots of liquor, shots of tequila, chasers of Schultz malt liquor, tanners of red rock, bushels of vodka, raspberry flavored was his favorite.  My favorite was just being wanted, even for a minute.  When you went away that day, it was cold out and you left me hanging there.  All those things you had said before you went did not help your case.  The I hate you's piling up like a giant stack of doughnuts, all stale and hard, three days old.  I never understood the reasoning behind your anger, your melodrama, your fisticuffs.  The I want a divorce's piled high as the clouds in the sky.  The way it made me feel, so ugly in my skin, the creepy crawlies brushing by, slowly.  The doubts, the questions, the wondering left to me ate me inside out.  The affect you had on me, I never shown to anyone.  But when you lied, it demolished me and made me sleep for days,  you saw it there between us, a rift, a rupture.  I hate liars, liars who have no reason, no explanation, no true need, no unforgotton claim, no, indeed.  You thought when I spoke of my hate, I did not mean you.  But I meant you most of all, you were the only reason I even gave a f**k anymore.  But that lasted about a year, maybe two.  Then there was nothing left to me that felt like love.  Nothing felt like anything at that stage.  I lived and breathed pain and disgrace, and sabotage!  So, I'm sorry, but you laid the foundation, my dear, with your battle talk, your poison darts, the taletell hiss of zinging bullets.  You surely laid the trail in deep woods, I am sorry but you left me all alone.  Underfed.  Undernourished.  Unplugged.  I never felt like you were mine.  You had nothing in store.   He said what if we never met that Day? He started describing how it felt not to know me and he was practically beside himself with an abject fear and self-loathing depracating tongue. In the stars, it was clearly outlined by the Gods, this love must pass until its end, end at the twilight of our love for one another. I thought that meant forever, an eternity, many many many moons after.   But love was not meant to be kept forever in a tiny heart-shaped, cobwebs all atwine, dust bunnies in the house. Say it only one time, love will last forever but it cannot be forever. My dear love, the days have passed since you were killed, and it still lingers in my heart, making me moody, depressed, hitchy. I travel to inside my mind those days, so I can be alone with Aaron. My imaginary lover.  He is always there when i need him, always on time.  I need a pill so I can forget what I had in my hands.  Been a long time coming to this.  He was very intent on putting it where ever he could.  How could I tell him no, I never said it.  Heed the word of the wise.   Come and get your love.  You were as sweet as cherry pie.  So sweet, like sugar and honey mixed up.  Dear Algernon, where are all the flowers? He made a habit of having her guess what he had brought home.  It was peonies one time, fresh, sweet, clean.  Another time, it was a silver and ruby bracelet engraved with the date of their marriage.  It was a true lover's trinket.   One time, it was crab legs and popcorn shrimp to deep fry.  And a chocolate cherry cake with deep chocolate fudge frosting.  Once he brought  home a duffle bag filled with candy, all sorts, hard butterscotch, riesin's fudgy butterscotch wafers, watermelon flavored pink candy, caramels, candy corn, vanilla hearts, tootsie mini-bars, anise rum balls, raisin rim balls, chocolate fudge, peanut butter bars.  The time has come to face the music. Ante up, ante down. Beeline to the mountains. I love s*x with him, it turns me on like nothing else has in a long time. He rides the merry go round a few times. The fancy dance is a duly noted chore. He has a way of deeply discussing your needs, your wishes, your wants, your albatross. He always ride the wave and so do you. How are you going to quit this, now? How do you expect the longing for him to dematerialize. I hope but I really have great expectations of being wanted, to be f****d by an expert on the subject. A aficionado. BENCHMARK. You know those plane survivors from the Andes. They had man's will to survive. And they did. He always asks me how I want it, I usually say, why, how ever is fine, but I secretly like it when he is above me, but then again, I love it anyway he gives it to me, any time, any day, any way. He has been steadily growing very fond, despite his distractions. His turmoil. His spirit. His ability to make everything feel like s*x, s*x, s*x, s*x! Naturally drawn to the honey. Funny. Time is wasting. Until we meet again, naked. Of course. Aaron had a heart of gold and a heart of black. He never tried at all, he didn't have to. He thought she didn't know, I didn't know, no one knew. Well, well, I did, but I did not let it bother me at all. Well, it did but I tied it down, roped it off. Felt nothing but like f**k. Dear, me, oh, my. f**k. I ran to the hills, to find something in the dark, my doll. I saw the morning and its leftover dailies, like saran wrap, see-through. I felt the mood change with the night, the long, hot, sultry, slurry of a night. Such is beauty, as a whole. He was my lover, my imaginary loverboy who I wanted so bad. He is a delicate kind of lover, fast fast slow slow. The time catering to his wants and his desires, his unfettered self uncovering a need to desire, worship, ooh la la over the thick edge of the weekend. Frustrated, in a panic, in a tizzy. Foward to spacemonkey. Deep thinking loverboy, a mile a minute. A thousand miles to reach my floor, up a million stairs to the highest point. Recollection of his desire brought an ebb to my flowing tides. The weekend was a nice place, beautiful, surreal. He had me at the first time, all bent out of shape. Squished into a square, the dillweed sat alone as the salflower oil took centerstage. The oil dripped long drippy drops into the lion's cage. The lion never had a chance to run and fiercely fight to the tongues, tied up in the webbing of the heights of s****l nature, very piquant. Loss of breath, sucked into the void, the hole grew as the spiggot dug in deeper and deeper still. Sinking it all, to the hilt.  The time spent without you broke me. It rendered everything black and grey. Like rainclouds. Much like that. It altered the world as we knew it, finished it completely. Wiped it away, like a stain on my heart and my future days to come. It rained when I died that day. and up memories stain the glass and leave marks in the grass. Left over fuckfest, festering f*****g overblown debacle.  The way he was when he was thinking of plans to surprise someone was so endearing, so tender. But when someone crossed his path that needed help or a ride somewhere like the doctor's office or the welfare office, he was always ready to help with a big old smile. It made me see the real him, the aaron I loved and enjoyed and truly open to such goodness of the human nature. It was a beginning to the rest of my life, my most joyous moments. Spent with such a good man who cared and tried so hard to please whoever he met. He bought his mom a gift card for Target and told her to shop for anything she wanted. She picked out something that the older neighbor lady needed, repair parts for her vaccuum and ten cases of wet cat food. That's where the love in his heart came from, straight out of hers, flowing free. I never understood why people could just walk away from each other, so long, stan. The old story told of a daughter and her lover when they went to Spring Break in Malibu. Partied like freedom fighters from Pakistan. Real vogue. Clowns in the closet, ballerinas in dutch. He said I love the way you look tonight. And I believed every word he said. Because he meant every word. He was a keeper, I tell ya, a true keeper. He played with my hair as we cuddled on the daybed, rolling the locks with fancy fingers meant for the big time, the city lights. The hands of a demi-god, a magic man, a maestro. Love is many splendored thing, they say. They also say love hurts. Weird. Staring into the sun, staring into the pools of clay, grey as grey. Keep on trying, my dear, you will get it right soon enough! And you know she was right as rain. Right said Fred. Dream a little dream of me, late at night, in the morning light. Say a little prayer for me, dear jessica. Shine on, you crazy diamond. Wish you were here. 

•Musical Misconceptions I Have Been Under•

1. I thought bon scott was the guy who dressed in the shorts, I did not know until I figured it out for good two weeks ago. Sad.

2. I thought cream had jeff beck in it.

3. I thought strawberry letter 22 was a white band. When I seen the video, I was surprised but now im like, I should have known!

4. Back in the day, I thought the guy who sang house of the rising sun was an old guy. Not. Only his voice sounded old. See what games the radio played??? Light my fire, old fat singer. Wrong. Overplayed on radio, but not fat, old guy. Young superman meets his maker.

5. I thought the beatles and wings were the same band for a long time. Well, anyone could have made that mistake, okay?

6. I thought the boys are back in town was Manfred Mann. Thin Lizzy. Never heard of them.

7. I thought the song, "need love" meant sales traffic.

8. I thought baby got back meant she had a lithe backside.

9. I thought the lead singer in most bands in the late 70's and 80's was not good looking at all! Case in point. Scorpions. Sweet. Quiet Riot. Obvious difference, Guess Who prior to mustache, 2 thumbs up. After? Big zero down. Guess who guitarist in American woman video. Delish. In the other? Big indian guy. What happened?

22. I did not know it was guess who greatest hits, thought it was one hell of a masterpiece. Same with grass roots, tommy james, etc.

23. He came with hands full and he went like the wind beneath my wings.

24. Here, There, Every where.

25. Stereophonics

26. A still wonder

I am sorry things did not work out the way we planned. The times were great, everyway, everyday. How did it happen to me, a little town brat who loved only the ones who could never love you back, who never could be true, who never looked back at the damage and the hurricane-like winds that soared through the sky and below, the ground. I always felt a bit off kilter, kind of translucent, see-through. It wasn't until Aron came along that day that I ever felt like living life. Before, it fell to dungeons, the hardened steel bars slapping the embankment. Ah, the times, they are changing and becoming aligned with the stars. What ever made one so beautiful has a deep understanding of a virgin beauty, less to understand, more to remember and more to breathe in. Like the lilac trees planted in the path, how the smell of them permeated the entryway at the galleyway. Remember the days we spent in each other's arms, wrapped and pressed into service. Aron said he never had such a wonderful time as he did when he was a in position for the taking, ah, desire of the fierce warrior, never abated, never sufficed. Always searching for me in the dark, in the morning haze, in the distant, waning sunlight. I always agreed to be open to his desire, my actions, my words, telling every secret, every hidden place, every peak, every highest mountain sank into the sea. It was too soon to break away from his embrace, his land-locked hands held me in sweet, sweet sway. His lips were tender to the touch, warm, inviting. All he handled was a little lover, intent on his breath, his halting gasps, the beads of sweat along his shoulders, dripping senses, finely caressed. Finest fusion, long overdue. JESSIE, can you please ask again, can we please, daddy???   Red was the color of my heart and yours amid the ample leads of rein and the soot left by the ashes. Remember the spotted grey wren on the weighted branch near the treeline. Heaven has a way of showing just how fine it could be, god forbid. Nestled in the shy peaks, high above it all, looking down like a god or something. Depends on how you look at, I guess. Aaron sure had a way of looking good, all dandied up and ready to roll. Like a Frenchman rallied up for the race, the grand catapult into fame, riches and the biggest fortune ever. Like the rain, all must come to an end, sometime, eh. Finally, the end. It is an awfully wet spring, hence the april showers and flowers. Might be an antidote or a remedy to the secret poison called love, undercover angel. Aaron was eyes and ears and hands that day. It never affects me to say how beautiful he was, it was just the way it was. May came and went, June came and stayed a little while. July came like a mad hornet, frustrated and hopping around. It stretched, stretched its way around the corner and there stood August, like a quite formidable foe. July danced and made merry for a few more nights, twinkling away until dawn. But then it turned and left, had made other plans with April in the spring, you see. Well, one could do worse than August. Hung around like a wallflower, a june bug. Aaron made me feel so rich, so wonderful in my own skin. He always did, he didn't even have to try. Aaron read somewhere that if you counted to one hundred and held your breath, good things and sweet dreams would always find you near. It is true, to this day, oh, so true. How could you just hold enough to never lose sight of the prize? Land and sea, combined. He was a true lover's trinket, a pretty done up kind of lover, all curves and swerves. No speed humps, only speed on wheels. He left a mark on the world, my outlook on everything sifted, demured, grinded. He was my dreamboat, my sammy I am. My yes man, my no man, my every which way and loose man. I loved him like a thousand tomorrows, a thousand yesterdays. I will always dream of him, still alive, of course. My man of the hour, he was.  He quenched a thirst I didn't even know I had until I was gasping for air, for time, for a second chance at the prize.  Oh, to dream big meant have a big eye.  Indulge yourself once in awhile.  Go For Broke!  The longest relationship that held its sway through all these years,  a hidey ho kind of affair.  It meant so much to me because it had a hold, a clutching desire.    You are my everything, dear husband.  I treasure the day you came into my life, though you were a million miles away from being who.you are now.  A mysterious one like a ten thousand miles from home.