As I hear children laughing and playing a considerable distance behind me
I light up my stone cold cigarette.
Her green spades light up my lungs,
Digging into my sides as I breathe in.
And as I exhale, I feel the heat of my own breath
Tickle the edge of my tongue
As I see a strangely shaped cloud vaporize in front of me.
And she appears.
MJ.
Mary Jane.
Pretty much looks like Mary Jane from Tobey Maguire’s Spider-Man movies.
But she’s hotter.
But she’s still wet.
(From their kiss in the rain
In the movies.)
She looks tired today.
A bag or two under her eyes.
An already lit cigarette dangles
Helplessly in limbo outside of her mouth.
The silent and elusive wisps of tobacco
Tickle my senses as I inhale
For the first time in what seems like a long time.
She lights a cigarette for me.
Our conversations always start the same.
She always says to me,
“What are you doing?”
And I always reply,
“I just wanted to see you again. I’ve been so—“
And she always interrupts me
“Lonely, I know.”
And she always pauses.
“Where do you think it’s coming from?”
I never answer. She knows.
She always attempt to change the subject.
“You know, I hate cigarettes,”
She’ll always say.
“I don’t do it because I like it,
I do it for the—“
And I always interrupt
“Aesthetic, I know. You’re such a poser.”
We laugh for the first time in ages.
And then I pause.
This is new.
I never pause.
I take a folded piece of paper out of my back pocket.
This is new.
I unfold it.
...
This is new.
MJ looks at me.
She’s sad too.
This is new.
I blink.
She’s wearing a blue dress.
This is familiar.
I know what I have to do.
I read my writing:
“I never deserved you.
I only used you
Confused you.
Lost you.
I perhaps loved the idea of you
More than the person you were.
Perhaps I loved you more when I
Imagined you as the mother of my children
More than I could have ever loved you in a present moment.
Maybe the line between obsession and love isn’t that fine.
You would hate the person I am now.
You wouldn’t take me back even if you wanted to.
And that’s okay.
We shouldn’t.
I barely did the things you asked me while we were together.
And even then, sometimes I was lying to you.
You certainly wouldn’t like meeting MJ.
You wouldn’t like my new friends.
You never liked my old ones.
When I lost you I thought I lost everything.
And I did.
I still writhe in pain because of you.
I don’t blame you,
But GODDAMN.
Cinderella’s castle couldn’t save us, baby girl.
And when everything is said and done,
You’ll still be my first.
For everything.
Including Disneyland.
I remember the last moment you looked at me
Like you loved me.
I made you laugh.
And there was a twinge of sadness
As the Haunted Mansion stopped and restarted for the 30th time.
A sadness I didn’t understand but would come to understand the sobering powers of far later.
And now it’s been almost a year and a half and I’m writing this at 12:30 am on Memorial Day weekend.
I did want you to be happy.
I still do.
I just wanted you to be happy with me I guess.
To love me as much as I loved you.
Or as much as I thought I loved you.
I didn’t deserve you.
Not a bit.
But there’s something I never told you.
You didn’t deserve me.”
MJ looked at me with tears in her eyes,
Staining her blue dress.
Her mascara runs down her cheek as she says
“Damn I thought this was waterproof.”
We both chuckle.
“Well,”
MJ starts
“Looks like you finally did it.”
I have tears streaming down my face now.
This is familiar.
“Yeah I guess I did.”
And I pause again.
This is new.
“Did I though? Do it?”
MJ chuckles under her breath,
“No,” she replies.
There is another pause.
“But it’s a good start.”
She starts to vanish and I desperately scramble for my little blue time machine before she puts her hand on mine.
The touch is ice cold.
It’s familiar.
“I have to go now.”
This is too familiar.
“Please don’t.” I whimper.
“I can’t lose you again.”
She kisses me lightly on the cheek.
I hate this.
“I will always love you.”
