שאול (pt. 3 - a strange interlude)

first spring snow sidewalks melt slick city songs rising up and out from every which-a-way medieval market day and then a something or other unexpected but not unsuspected a thing not wholly unknown but unknowed.

we knew each other as we knew ourselves which stands to reason in certain circles of understanding once when one considers that we went back about as far back as could be given conditions as they are and once were and had continued to be or so she says to me.

she says to me she had been writing lists of her failures making inventories of shortcomings documenting what she hated about herself as if she were the secretary of her own discontent.

i says to her i had spent the night smashing glass with the baseball bat that i had been given as a wedding gift the one with my name engraved really burned in to be more accurate which seemed appropriate given the state i was currently and had been for quite some time.

we sat and stared.

and then she says to me,
-i don't take care of myself there's nothing desirable about me i'm in love with the ones who treated me like shit i make bad decisions i make terrible decisions i can't seem to do anything to make my life better i don't use what little talent i have i'm secretly a disappointment to my family i have no close friends because i have nothing to offer anyone i'm pretentious i'm really fucking pretentious i hate my life i hate myself i have wasted my life doing nothing more than being a weak pathetic unfulfilled cunt and if i don't wake up in the morning i cannot imagine it would be a huge loss or a major loss or any sort of a loss at all.

so i says to her,
nothing at all because i was just sat there waiting and i was sat there wanting to tell her that we all feel like that at least us worth wanting but instead i was just sat there waiting was sat there wanting to tell her about her about the knife i've kept not because i don't have better because i certainly do but because i once held it to my wrist on a particular christmas when i myself wasn't being too particular about waking up in the morning but instead i was just sat there waiting.

so she says to me,
-i just want to have a fucking reason to exist a reason to get out of bed in the morning and not hate my life i just want to fucking matter

so i says to her,
-the worst part is not being able to tell whether you've managed to somehow climb out, or if instead you've fallen back in without noticing.

so she says to me,
nothing.

we sat and stared

so i says to her,
-want another beer?

and she says to me,
-might as well. i ain't got no reason to wake up tomorrow. if you will kindly remember.

and i says to her,
-i will remember. and kindly.

we drained our beers, cleared the empties, and took 'em out back along with the baseball bat where we spent the rest of the night smashing bottles into the clear night sky.