Friday afternoon blues
I got the Friday-afternoon-an-hour-left-to-work-nothing-to-do-nobody-here-not-
gonna-see-Batman-this-weekend blues.
The sun is shinning, so to look outside it looks like a beautiful day, but when you step outside, the death cold bitch slaps you in the face. Damn Mother Nature. I'm going some place warm.
Oh, yeah, I am.
Young Knucklehead called last night, drunk off his ass. Wanted me to come to town, meet him for a drink. He was already beyond gone, and alone. So, I went if for no other reason than he asked me too, and to make sure he got home ok. I could never live with myself if I didn't go, and he didn't make it home. He was that blotto.
How do I know? He told me "I love you" no less than 30 times. Yeah, he was wasted. He leaned in to kiss me, I turned my head, he hit my neck, and instead of kissing it, he bit it. Not a little love nibble, no this is canine chowing down on a steak BITE. No external marks, but he bit a tendon, and damn it hurts. Hurts to turn my head, hurts to touch it. Painful hurts.
I was good, and I kept my promise. I met him, and convinced him he needed to go home. I took him home, got him in the house. He was in an open and honest and babbling mood. Rambling on and on about how much he loved me and how much he respected my decision and my promise. Then he told me he realized he fucked up when he let me go. And that Batman was a very lucky guy whether he realized it or not.
Coming from a drunk Knucklehead, I'm sure Batman will be impressed.
I look at Knucklehead now, and I wonder what I saw in him. He's afraid to commit to himself, let alone anyone else. He's afraid to let anyone get close to him, and he numbs the pain anyway he can. I get him, in a way no one else does. I scare him because I get him, and I care, and I don't run. I stick. Everyone else in his life has run. I believe in him, even though he doesn't believe in himself.
We will never be anything more than the occasional phone call, or safe ride home from the bar. Or a friendly ear when it seems the world has turned it's back.
It touched me that he said Batman was a lucky man. Maybe he is. Maybe, just maybe Batman is lucky to have me.
3 comments:
yes he is!!! He better know how lucky he is!
next time, bite him back, only draw blood. Prtend you're a vampire or something...
Ouch on the dog chomp!
I think Batman's beginning to realize he's a lucky man;>
Drunk + Emotionally Vulnerable = HONEST
I say that to say, YES, he was being honest and truthful: Batman is a very lucky man. Let's just hope it doesn't take him being drunk and emotionally vulnerable to realize it.
I leave you with some words from a favorite artist of mine:
"It doesn't take a whole day to recognize sunshine."
Common
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