"I have to tell you... I'm not around anymore. I took a transfer in my job...I live in LA. I'm not in New Jersey anymore... and I met somebody. I need closure on this."
Fuck. Me. Sideways.
When my phone had rung and I saw her name, I stormed out the heavy doors of the fancy "lounge" on the highway ("whorish upper class broads and the guidos who love them" place) and practically sprinted to my car. "Taken aback" isn't the word for what I was.
"Why did you call me? I was doing fine without you. I didn't need to hear you," I said.
"Because I needed closure. I had to tell you that I'm not around."
Closure. She always said things like that that I never understood.
Closure. I need time. I can't date now.
"Is he rich?"
"That's neither here nor there."
"Funny, cause it was both here and there when I wanted to date you."
"Cause you fuckin' owe me, that's why."
There was no heart in her voice. It came through in squeeks and snaps, but it was not there like it used to be. And call me delusional, but I don't even think it was because she was talking to me that it was absent... it wasn't there at all.
It might be the product of too many business meetings where you hustle some motherfucker just like the slingers on the street... it might be she actually feels bad for what she pulled on me this last year and a half. Who knows. But it was sad.
When I talk, I am emotional. There is that tough darkness under my gravelly voice, but it always shows elation, or sadness, or anger. There is a tone. There is heart. I couldn't change it if I wanted to- I've worn my heart on my sleeve forever, and it's gotten me in brawls, gotten me fired from jobs, but I love it because it keeps me truthful. If nothing else, I am always truthful.
Her... well, she's perfected the art of lying. The art of self-preservation. I doubt whether I could ever be with someone who lied so obsessively and profusely, and they flowed like water over a broken dam. Constant, reasonless, meandering and hammering. It wears you down, like the way salty waves wear down the rocks closest to the water.
Our paths will cross again I think. I hope not, because I hope to never see the lying green eyes again. But they will, because that's what happens in my trainwreck of a life. Anything else would be, simply put, too easy. And then God would get bored. And I can't get boring...
I saw this coming. I have a keen sixth sense with people, as if I can predict who's going to screw me, and who's going to be there. I knew all of this... I foresaw it long ago. I was not looking forward to it, but I knew it was coming.
I'm a different guy then I was, though. I do wish I had never heard from her, but it was not my choice to make. I'm made of tougher stuff than I was, and this heartache is nothing new. If anything else, it's dulled... like getting morphine before you get shot; you still bleed, but at least it don't hurt.
She tells me she won't read this blog anymore. I don't believe'er. She's done nothing but lie to me, and this is another in a long string. It's fitting that it comes from a girl who's been hiding now for years... and now it's not even figurative- she actually left the damn state. That speaks volumes to me.
But what I can say is this car crash won't lay the hustla down.
What can you do, except listen to Kid Rock in that song that always reminded me of her anyway....
Why dont you run off to L.A.
And lose your mind
You've got 15 minutes and
I think your wasting time
Its easy to see when you've lost your mind
But here I'll be when you decide to come back blind
And even though i might break down
And cry tonight
Please pack your shit
And take the first train out of my life
So after all I did, all that I put up with, all that I hoped for, the motherfucker sells me out like that. Well, I got one thing to say to her...
Hey Alex.... Fuck you.
We'll crucify the insincere, tonight, tonight...