By Alexander Newfield
Date: 19 June 2000
You're Still Here
You're still here. Your presence permeates this apartment.
In the bedroom I can still smell your perfume and I still haven't
taken your pictures out of the frames on the dresser. You haven't
left. I walk down the hallway and remember the nights I would carry
you to bed because you were too drunk to walk. The kitchen is the worst.
I remember making popcorn the old-fashioned way with you...then you ruined
it with a cup of melted butter and cayenne pepper. But we shared it, anyway,
as we cuddled on the couch in the dark den and watched some crappy late
night TV movie about an airplane that was doomed to crash in the jungles of
Peru. I see my dirty clothes in piles and remember the trips to the laundry
room. You had a peculiar washing method. You washed all your t-shirts and
dresses in cold water. Delicate cycle. You only used Woolite. You made me
wash my own boxers. The bathroom sucks, too. I still haven't thrown out
your old bottles of Prell. I found one of your plastic hair clips the other
day and it's still on the bathroom counter. I remember the fun we had
in the tub. You loved to splash. Your Boys of Summer calendar is still
hanging over the towel rack. You told me you'd leave it so I'd have
something to remember you by.
I don't know what to do. I could call an exterminator or an exorcist
or burn the apartment down and buy a trailer. I have a feeling I will
always be bugged and besieged by memories of you regardless.
Back to the Blender Digest