Tower Submission: Could

this goes in an order and each segment is titled...for the tower, based on a conversation with a friend...



In The End, It Doesn’t
I stand, looking in on a window display in the sex shop down the corner from my apartment. Looking at all of that vibratory glory, illuminated by the glow of electric-neon sex, I marvel. Like someone at an idol, all I can do is look and wonder and imagine and fantasize. Throwing my cigarette against the brick, I watch the explosion of ash and smoke, turning away, walking back to the apartment. Passing the homeless on the trek back towards my living space I start to wonder about what could be, what could have been, how I can handle my current situation that I’ve been stagnating in. Brushing off the grimy hands outstretched toward me and thrust in front of me, holding out for a spare bit of change or a cigarette. Suckers.
How would she see me if I could be seen by where somewhere, skried and oblivious, continuing along my predestined road? It creeps me out thinking that I’m not the one determining where I walk, who I talk to, fuck, ignore, rip-off, and eat with. Where is she and what is she doing?
Her hair always smelled of peppermint, and the wind always seemed to blow it in my face when we were outside, meandering, the tips catching the end of my nose and making me sneeze.
3.02 AM.
What would she do if she knew?
3.06 AM.
Stop being a pussy, just call her and tell her. No, don’t do that. Ask her to meet you somewhere. Or drive her?…
3.15 AM.
Fuck it, nevermind, it’s better that I don’t say anything and she just goes…
3.18 AM.
But is she happy? You know you aren’t…
3.30 AM.
Hit by the bus. Oh well…

Ecclesiastes
I stand outside, watching her make her way to the library; puffing on a cigarette, watching her walk away in my hoodie. She’s cold, I’m not, in fact, I’m burning. Where is her boyfriend? Why am I giving her my stuff? Fuck it, it’s just a hoodie, you’ve got at least a couple more. Inhale, exhale, rinse and repeat. Mmmm, that buzz, better that than actually being drunk for class. Well, maybe not, depends on the teacher…
Hmm…I am playing a show later this week, maybe she would come to that? No I think I asked her already…well not asked, but mentioned that I was playing somewhere, and I can’t remember if she said she would come or not. I can’t be obsessive, but I would like to know if she is coming or not…
Fuck it, if she’s there then she’s there. If not then,,,well what do you mean “ if not then…” you know that you aren’t gonna feel any less about her if she’s not there…
I stub out and head inside, bracing myself for the bombardment of questions and the hour of acting interested even if I could care less what this author thought about this that or the other.
I don’t really know anybody in the class, other than the professor, and there is a guy there that sits next to me and makes obscene references under his breath while the professor talks…
What are you doing she has a boyfriend, she isn’t interested in you any more than she’s interested in any other male friend she has, she’s happy, she’s in a relationship, and you are a fat sack of stupid. End of story.
I hope she comes to the show…

For The First Time
We sit together on her balcony, smoking pot, talking about whatever. I can’t really remember now, but I’m sure it was interesting and intelligent and witty. Should it come out? What should the next thing I say relate to, the last thing I said or the last thing she said? or should I just ignore her and myself and just talk?
I think I’ll sit and just respond. I hope I don’t say anything. Don’t say anything at all, or have you and you just don’t realize it? She’s really smart, she probably knows…just say it…no that’s a bad idea. Your turn to hit that…
Maybe I can act Tommy, ignore everything, that way I can be sure of not saying anything, but I guess if I act Tommy I can’t hear or see either…

Does This Matter?
Mention whether or not you can feel anything? Oh right…That must suck. Really? That’s smart. Uh-huhn…right…yeah…I know that…I’ll be sure and remember to do that…right, whatever, at least I haven’t…what?…why?…ME?…you’re the one that always, no no, that’s you, that’s why…look I’m sorry, I can’t. nevermind. No there are people over…yeah so what if he’s over? So? Maybe I’ll call back, maybe I won’t, then you can wonder…whatever…yeah…yeah…mm-hmm…yeah…okay…right…yeah…uh-huhn…yeah…bye.
Click.

Within, Without
Logic tells me that she doesn’t care, however, I hope that I am picking up on things that she is doing to grab my attention. I hope she angles to sit next to me when we are in class…I hope she asks me over to spend time with her cos she likes me as well…I have no idea though…I hope we are getting together tonight, I think we are, but maybe not…she’s good at hiding things…does she? Doesn’t she?
Electric buzzing in my pants affirms that we are indeed still meeting, I just have to actually talk and receive what I know to be true. We are getting together at seven to see some movies, her roommate leaves after a while, and then it is the two of us, alone, sterile and obtuse, watching the movies, her in her own little place, me in mine…
I can’t do this for very much longer, I have to say something…what if something happens…I always joke about being dead by thirty, but now I wanna have a reason not to…
Waiting for the phone to ring in my pocket, waiting for an invitation…I need no such invitation as we are sitting in their living room, common room is what I keep calling it, and we have now watched the entirety of Fight Club, a movie she never saw and her roommate didn’t want to, but in the end I had my way. Doesn’t matter past that…
Instead, her phone lights the room, darkened to watch something on television. She looks to see who it is and answers.



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