i pretend i'm a writer.


(la doleur exquise.)
the exquisite pain.

the boy, the girl.

he was 6'2 with a precarious smirk and a devilish air about him. he was hard about life, not one to believe in immature and childish eutopian philosophies about life. he wore black on his sleeves and in his heart. he walked down the magnificent mile in chicago muttering to himself about the uselessness of politics and the obnoxious population of homeless persons. "this city is full of useless trash." he proclaimed. he'd had a permanent cloud of darkness looming over him for years. he wasn't sure why. he just felt so angry and helpless. maybe it was the godlessness. maybe it was the betrayal of chicago politicians. or politicians in general. maybe it was his own loneliness. he couldn't place it. but on this particular day, he felt called to walk the "mag-mile".

then he sees her. the girl with the green hair. her tattered and torn leggings. her bright yellow plastic mini-skirt. her black sequin top. her silver 5inch knee high boots. she looked like an alien, "completely out of this world."

she bumped into him, asked him for a light, wrapped her arm up and shot a hit of heroin, right there, on the mag mile at 2pm on a monday. "who the fuck is this girl" he asks himself.

that's how they met.
the boy in black and the girl with the green hair.
that's where their story begins.

you could guess it, the twist of plot -- they fell in love.

fast forward,
the boy in black and the girl with the green hair, they're at dinner. celebrating their 3 year anniversary.

he's about to propose. his heart couldn't be more full. this is THE girl. he finally found her.
and then, her phone rings.

"hi craig, can i call you back?
i'm in the middle of a breakup dinner."

the meaning of goodbye; 6.28.09

i saw his friend's car in the parking lot and i instantly felt attacked- that fiery yellow color, boasting of the stings that lay ahead, just thirty feet in front of me. we walked into the lobby of the smokey cafe, i tried to hang out there, avoiding this inevitable crash of emotions. i poured myself a cup of coffee, in hopes of dilluting the nervous vibrations i felt hanging in the rafters above me. but my friend grabbed my arm and shoved me to the nearest table. the orange walls and grunge art did little to put me at ease. i was feeling a world of turmoil building up in my stomach. i scanned the room, hoping it'd be just a sea of strangers. but alas, i was met with that unfriendly face - the face of the.. exboyfriend.

the reminder of all things heartbreaking and earth-shattering. he had a new girl on his lap. some abercrombie blonde with empty eyes and a pretentious smile. i looked away. i'd rather jump out of a moving vehicle going 90mph on a busy chicago highway than meet eyes with him. i'd rather roll over dead in my grave than give him the validation he'd been looking for. i didn't miss him. i didn't even care. i just didn't want him at MY coffee shop. on MY turf. i thought when we split, he knew i got full rights to this place. him and his small pervvy penis were not welcome here. or in my life. i thought he knew that's what i meant when i said "goodbye."

a simple father's day story, 6.21.09

the other day, as my friend chase and i were sitting on his porch, we began talking about the roles our fathers play in our lives. how appropriate with father's day quickly approaching! i explained to chase that i felt my life would have been less complete without my dad's presence. i remember very clearly the day i told my second grade teacher that "my daddy was a superhero." it's only now, at twentytwo, that i realize just how accurate that statement was - but instead of the ability to fly, he empowered me to fly with my own wings - seizing every opportunity that came my way. and though he may never solve world hunger or find the cure for cancer, he was there every time i scraped my knee. and every time i felt my world crashing down around me, there he was, equipped with a kleenex box and an encyclopedia of reasons why i still "kicked ass."

chase's perception of his father seemed to parallel my own. he views his dad as the iconic figure that helped shape him into the man he is today. "he's the hard-working, loving, determined champion i always saw him as." he went on to say that he didn't always understand his dad's tough love, but he also mentioned that he realized that if his dad pushed him, it was because he only wanted the best for his son.

chase then paused for a long time and feeling an exacerbated silence, i asked him what was on his mind. staring out into the sunset, he takes a long deep breath and says, "how cool is it that we respect our dads so much.. especially when there are people out there that have no concept of who or what a father is?!" - and as i looked out as the blending of colors in the sky, i simply and quietly said, "you know what, chase? i think we got pretty damn lucky."


_dedicated to wolfgang ritter, my superhero.

stupid brain, stupid heart - 6.19.09

it took me forever to fall asleep last night. i tossed and turned back and forth relentlessly, mercilessly willing my brain to sleep. i tried counting sheep. i tried reading a boring book. i tried watching cnn. these desperate pleas, all to no avail. i pulled up my curtain and stared into the night sky, even at 3am, in complete darkness, i could feel its beauty. the warm summer air filling my lungs, i laid back down, closed my eyes and muttered a final plea, but again, my senses failed me. suddeny, i felt the warm summer air turn to crisp autumn air, the beautiful calm night sky suddenly filled with harsh storm clouds. a loud crash of thunder and a bright blast of lightning and then a sudden onset of torrential downpour. i started crying, finally, i found the release i had been looking for. i closed my eyes and drifted into dreamland.

when i awoke, instead of feeling calm and rested, i felt as if i had sunk even lower. i had a dream - about HIM. it's been months since i last dreamt about him and yet, there he was, plain as day. as real as he'd ever been. i woke up, reaching out for him, calling out for him, as if these last two years without him were just a bad dream. i couldn't understand why my mind revisited this painful slew of memories, but i sincerely wished it didn't. but the ever optimist in me snapped back, "maybe there's something left open. maybe you still need closure about all of this. maybe there's some lesson to gain from this.."

or maybe.. my heart just likes to fuck with me.

june 19th, 2009.

maybe it's silly but after all this time, i've kept that one little box.

after we went our separate ways, i got rid of most everything. i tore up pictures, i shredded your sweatshirt, i wanted to erase every little moment in the grand space of time that we shared. but that quaint little shoebox, filled with love notes you'd written me and stories i'd written about us, for some reason - i just could bring myself to get rid of that box. i wouldn't allow myself to completely erase the story of you and me.

and maybe it's silly, but from time to time - i thumb through that box.

i don't know why i keep going back to it. it's rather ridiculous actually. after all the hurtful words, after the backstabbing, after the "fuck you's" and the "i never want to see you again's" - after all the space and the distance.. i still hang onto little pieces of you and me. i guess maybe there's a part of me that, dare i say it, wants to believe that at one time, i was inexplicably, extremely and inconveniently happy, in love.

it's silly. but i wonder, if maybe, i lost a part of myself when i tried to get rid of you.

i've changed so much since then. you'd barely even recognize me. i'm not as carefree, i'm more quiet, reserved. i rarely make rash decisions and i'm extremely cautious, especially when it comes to my heart. i don't know. maybe it was the heartbreak. maybe it was the act of growing up. or maybe i just lost my childhood optimism. but somewhere along the way, i stopped believing that love conquers all.

a big night; may 24th, 2009.

i grabbed my sister's garmin, drove into the city i love so much, parked my car, put on another sweep of mascara, smeared on my favorite lip gloss and headed down the sidewalk towards the bar. my heart raced. "stay calm, sweetie. no big deal."

as i made my way into the bar, through the crowds of people, a guy smiled and winked at me. i barely noticed, i had too much on my mind. and soon enough, i heard that familiar voice, "hey, over here kid."

i recognized the voice instantly, connected it with that face, those eyes, that smile. i couldn't have imagined a better reunion, greeted with a big, all-encompassing hug. the kind i'd missed so much. further into the night, a few drinks down and laughs all around, he reminded me of the text he'd sent the night before. "oh kid, i heart you." it sprawled across my cell phone screen that previous night. in true fashion, he quickly made an excuse, blamed the alcohol, apologized for his ridiculous behavior and just like old times, my heart sank.

i don't know what i expected to happen. we live in different states, in different worlds. and i knew it driving home that night - we're just friends. we've always been just exactly that. friends. friends that float in and out of each other's lives. we're good at that. and maybe that's how it should stay.

so i said goodbye to him, wished him a safe ride home and decided to move on with the rest of my life -- life's too short to waste on a story that might have been.