Ours

the only thing that moves on

...is time

why then, oh why can't I?!

You won't find me there or anywhere the bluebirds are. No, this place is reserved for the kinds likable to that of myself. A table for one, where what's on the menu isn't as important to the name on the menu.

I'd like to be honest as possible in these stories, I'd love to be able to go off on tangents...but I'm just afraid that the viewing public expands more than those who will text me later tonight or tomorrow. Some are accident, and are of no concern to me, no, it's those who with malice aforethought seek me out.

To say this is all some sort of a conspiracy would only signal the red flags. Certain questions like how did my boss get wind of, as he lovingly titled this, "blue thirty-five monkey butt fuck" Sigh, it's Tuesday, but you'd never know that.

I heard Our song this weekend. In fact, I have never heard that song played on the radio, or anywhere for that matter, ever before..it lacks being in my playlist..but I heard it on more than one occasion, and in less than a 24 hour period.

The first time was in the evening last night. As, what I'd start to call a Saturday tradition of sorts, began, fueled by hunger and a desire to see, led us back again. I was riding shotgun not paying attention to much of anything, rambling about nothing with my driver - who can ever really recall these details anyways. The radio was on, but I don't ever remember it playing music up until that harrowing moment..you know how in the movies where a certain song suddenly comes on the radio, or gets louder, and it's only for that song or scene..this was one of those cinematragic moments.

The first beats of the song chimed loudly, louder than hollow conversation, filling the emptiness of the cars interior, tunneling into my ear canal quick with precision and onto my eardrum with percussion. I've never heard a song sting like this. My driver was unaware of the panic i was in, countered almost simultaneously with the tympanic punch with one of his own "look, here's your girl" he said jeeringly not realizing just how right he was with that double entrende. I sat in my paralysis not wanting to believe the song was ours..hoping it was a different song..a different singer...a different love.

I surfaced through my silence, only being able to come up with a 'no' which i repeated several more times. This caused confusion in my driver, who reaffirmed me that the singer was that of which we knew all along..and the song was ours..and so was our love.

My nightmare on this road didn't last much longer as we were, or I was rather, fortunate to be arriving at our destination. It was in those moments the car was being parked my mouth was set back in motion. Mumbles and rambles to myself, only safeguarded by the fact someone was with me, I wasn't sure I was talking to him or myself. Why was this the "first" time I've heard our song..never before you, never once after you, until tonight..tonight.

My luck didn't stop there, and it couldn't be stopped the next time. At our place of destination, upon entering the foyer we were met with smiling faces of remembrance that allowed me to recover. But it was later in the evening that song would play one more time. Once again those introduction notes deafening a large, noisy room- slicing through the crowd, finding its way to me, always. The horror continued, we thought we were safe, but monsters never die just once. There was no escaping from it this time.

It was then I decided to numb the awareness and alert my friend as to the impact or significance this moment was having unto me. Once he understood the startling truth a sympathetic stare was all he could render, and I can't expect much more from anyone else.

That was the second time, just twice hours apart, and it wouldn't be the last either. Not even half a day later, once again driving around in the car for a quick spin to the gym, we were confronted with that now infamous lead-in. And just like the first time, those wondrous inflections affected me all the same; still. Luckily by then my driver knew, and responded quickly, rotating the dial that controlled the output, landing on anything in the world other than that song. The break in beat snapped me out of my whirling coma and brought me back to reality before too much damage could be done.

Third time's a charm, they say...but I don't know what they are getting at, I mean, I'm still here.

"i love the riddles that you speak.. -yeah you do sometimes"