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On the Couch

A Message Sent but Not Received

By A.Published 2 years ago Updated 2 years ago 4 min read
2
On the Couch
Photo by Nathan Fertig on Unsplash

You sent a message. It was loud and it was clear and it was ignored. Not intentionally, ignored, though.

I would sit on your couch and listen to the songs. And you chose the songs. You poured the drinks. You listened to my words. And you lamented my lack of action.

And so, now, months later, I see it. I hear it. Hindsight is 20/20, I'm told. The one song you played almost on repeat - the playlist - "Talk is Cheap," "Stay High," "Consider Me."

There were more, but that first one. Chet Faker. Talk is Cheap - that one song is the whole damn thing. It is all of us. You kept telling me. You kept hoping.

I'm going to write it all out now. What I know - what you were saying. The response to that song. The message. The words you hoped would somehow be absorbed as I sat on your couch sipping a bourbon.

By Phillip Goldsberry on Unsplash

So - you're weak or I am -

No, you didn't seem to bother reading into it - my implied commentary. The message that I'm here, that if you want this, it's yours. You just let me talk - you appreciated me as a person, wanted someone like me there. The alternative being you alone.

But, the chorus - the repetition - the keys:

You're a mouthful that amounts for

Another week on my own

Now I'm a novel, made resourceful

I start a chain with my thought

Yep - I'm a mouthful - a list of words, of promises, of stories - What does that mean for you? Another - ONE MORE - week alone. Because I won't actually DO anything about what I'm saying. My mind is (was) too numb from bourbon to take action. Before that, I was just, well, too paralyzed to act - too afraid of some imagined consequence. Now, I was just numb.

Your mind - the most brilliant I've encountered - you made so much happen inside me. Indeed, a novel made resourceful - how can you get something? How can you urge me to move? Playing this song while you sit right next to me might help - but, well, it didn't.

And talk is cheap, my darling

When you're feeling right at home

I wanna make you move with confidence

I wanna be with you alone

Said help me help you start it

You're too comfortable to know

You're throwing out those words

No, you gotta feel it on your own

I hear it now - hear your voice. I'm pretty sure you said just as much to me out loud. Maybe you thought the words from Chet would make it real to me?

My talk - empty, worthless. Why? I felt safe, at home - just sitting with you drinking bourbon and talking about the future, about us, about what might be.

You told me over and over what you wanted.

You wanted to instill me with confidence - to let me know that it was all real. That YES, the most brilliant and amazing woman I've ever met wanted. Wanted to "be with me alone."

That I didn't believe that, wouldn't claim it - frustrated the hell out you.

Hey, look - WORDS - I threw out words. I said a lot. Told you things I'd told no one else. You once asked: "Why don't you DO anything?" Well, I didn't feel it - not enough. I didn't believe it was or could be real.

At some point, this had to be all too sad for you. To watch. To see a man you often described as incredible squander his potential - not just with you, but with the world. In fact, this made me abhorrent to you at times, I'm certain.

You wanted the knight on the stallion and I showed up on a donkey hoping just your kiss would sustain me one more day - showed up empty and begging for the fuel of alcohol so I might forget the reality of our situation.

The reality? In the words of another song, "We know that we fear to win and so we end it before we begin."

I was, then, so afraid - of, well, everything. What I feared most was that what I saw a glimpse of - what was possible - would turn out NOT to be real. I was "too comfortable" for you to know. Too comfortable to let anyone know. Too afraid that even if I did win (if we won together) that the gift would be taken away.

Now, now I'd take winning - take even one moment of both of us - fully present, united, together - I am not afraid of what's next. But, now, now you're not here - The cold pain could not sustain you.

I want to believe there is more for us, I want to show you who I am now. I want you to know that you DID make me move with confidence. I am and will be forever thankful for the gift you gave me - even as my realization of it may have been too late for us.

breakups
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About the Creator

A.

A. writes creative nonfiction and fiction across a range of genres.

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