2 Am

2 AM and she calls me 'cause I'm still awake,
"Can you help me unravel my latest mistake?,
I don't love him. Winter just wasn't my season"


I look at the upper right corner of my laptop screen.  1:59 AM gives way to 2:00 AM.  I think of that wonderful Anna Nalick song, Breathe, and go fetch it to share as part of a story.  I've been lending an ear to a number of people lately, so I've not had time to do much writing.  Don't get me wrong; I love chatting, especially with a few particular gentlemen friends.  And given the epistolary nature of my novel series, continuing to chat is essential.  It's not just fun.  It's work.  At least, that is how I've trained my husband to view it.  Pretty tricky, huh?

The thing is, though, that some of it is pure pleasure.  Funnily enough, those bits and pieces are the most likely to wind up in my books.  The conversations flow so smoothly, and the men say such wonderful things.  They're like modern day Shakespeares, no ****.  These guys have a gift that I cannot hope to match.  But they've allowed me to incorporate their words into my writing, so I can bask in their reflected glory and expose the world to their wisdom and lovely sentence constructions.  Sensual, beautiful visionings of encounters betwixt us.  Brilliant comedic wordplays.  Lovemaking that transcends the reality in their lives and mine.  Things that are possible, but not occurring for one reason or another.  At least, not in three dimensions.  It occurs in that dimension where we meet.  And the ******* are quite real.  Mentally inspired by the words of our partner, physically self induced.

It's not all sex, though.  There is some discussion of difficulties with girlfriends, with wives, with prospective lovers.  And that is what has exhausted me.

My son sees the dark circles under my eyes and is concerned.  He asks me what is keeping me awake.  I usually stay up ridiculously late, but like Bertie Wooster, I sleep in until the noon hour or so.  I've been getting up earlier lately, unable to sleep because of all the thoughts and emotions whirling in my head.  We have a hard time resting when our friends are in trouble.  At least, I do. 

'Cause you can't jump the track, we're like cars on a cable
And life's like an hourglass, glued to the table
No one can find the rewind button, girl.
So cradle your head in your hands
And breathe... just breathe,
Oh breathe, just breathe


I answer my son briefly, sharing a few details about the worries of my friends.  He sighs.  He knows about my superpower, you see.  He's benefited from it himself often enough, as he unburdens himself and shares the details of his hopes for some girl's attentions as they've been cruelly dashed.  I do not understand what is wrong with these young women.  They tease my son and flirt with him only to tell him "no thanks" when he asks them to go out.  They are stupid ****** who will rue the day they failed to appreciate his worth.  When he becomes a famous actor, desired by all, named People's Sexiest Man every year for the remainder of his life, they will eat their own hearts in the marketplace.  And so it is with many of the men I've met online.  It kills me that they to off to Russia and Oakland and La Jolla without a woman to share their lovely hotel beds.  It infuriates me that they sit at home alone because their overtures to go out to a movie are rebuffed.

My mother always said there was a cover for every kettle, and there are plenty of fish in the sea, but these lovely men remain uncovered, unable to get a decent nibble despite their most excellent bait.


"Just a day" he said down to the flask in his fist,
"Ain't been sober, since maybe October of last year."


My husband seems to have committed himself to sobriety after seven years of a rollercoaster of alcoholism, and I am happy for him.  I'm happy for our children as well, because his drinking was very hard on them.  But I find myself feeling ashamed because now that he is no longer drunk, I don't have an excuse to end our marriage.  I stuck with him, growing further and further away in my heart, telling myself that I could hold out until the children were raised.  And now, it feels as though I am stuck with him, committed to a relationship that no longer feels quite right.

2 AM and I'm still awake, writing a song
If I get it all down on paper, it's no longer inside of me,
Threatening the life it belongs to
And I feel like I'm naked in front of the crowd
Cause these words are my diary, screaming out loud
And I know that you'll use them, however you want to


So often I stay up because if I try to go to sleep my brain just keeps spinning, all the stories I've heard and encounters I've had demanding release.  I've tried sometimes to just scribble a few notes to get them the hell out of there until I have time to write them up properly.  But they often continue to holler at me when I rest my head on the pillow, with various literary allusions and quotations and cultural references demanding to be paired up, so oftentimes I just surrender and go back down to the family room, brewing a cup of tea, getting a fire going in the hearth, and opening my laptop for more writing.  Before I know it, the windows are filled with dawn's early light, and I can hear the song sparrows and grey-throated warblers' warming up for a concert in my backyard.



  


Breathe (2 AM) ~ Anna Nalick

2 AM and she calls me 'cause I'm still awake,
"Can you help me unravel my latest mistake?,
I don't love him. Winter just wasn't my season"
Yeah we walk through the doors, so accusing their eyes
Like they have any right at all to criticize,
Hypocrites. You're all here for the very same reason

'Cause you can't jump the track, we're like cars on a cable
And life's like an hourglass, glued to the table
No one can find the rewind button, girl.
So cradle your head in your hands
And breathe... just breathe,
Oh breathe, just breathe

May he turn 21 on the base at Fort Bliss
"Just a day" he said down to the flask in his fist,
"Ain't been sober, since maybe October of last year."
Here in town you can tell he's been down for a while,
But, my God, it's so beautiful when the boy smiles,
Wanna hold him. Maybe I'll just sing about it.

Cause you can't jump the track, we're like cars on a cable,
And life's like an hourglass, glued to the table.
No one can find the rewind button, boys,
So cradle your head in your hands,
And breathe... just breathe,
Oh breathe, just breathe

There's a light at each end of this tunnel,
You shout 'cause you're just as far in as you'll ever be out
And these mistakes you've made, you'll just make them again
If you only try turning around.

2 AM and I'm still awake, writing a song
If I get it all down on paper, it's no longer inside of me,
Threatening the life it belongs to
And I feel like I'm naked in front of the crowd
Cause these words are my diary, screaming out loud
And I know that you'll use them, however you want to

But you can't jump the track, we're like cars on a cable,
And life's like an hourglass, glued to the table
No one can find the rewind button now
Sing it if you understand.
and breathe, just breathe
woah breathe, just breathe,
Oh breathe, just breathe,
Oh breathe, just breathe.
milkynips milkynips
46-50, F
1 Response May 17, 2012

This is one of my favorite songs. Matter of fact it IS the only piece of recorded music on my cell phone. I shall now listen to it in an entirely different light reading this.