Intro

It’s strange to know that your life will end in suicide.

The whiskey and the champagne flow at this get-together of mine. Pop! Thump! Bang! I hear a giggle, then laughter. My own countenance is overcome by its grin as I turn to see my mischievous roommate holding a freshly opened bottle of cheap champagne, the tasty bubbles spilling into the dirty white carpet. The cork had taken flight and is now lost, possibly behind the big TV that so dutifully provides our entertainment on the few nights that we don’t think to throw a party . I sense a nervousness from the ones who have not been here before, who anxiously wonder my reaction and what the immediate clean-up will entail. The carpet begins to stain and a cork is missing. The party must go on.


Tonight we are in a bar. I light a cigarette just for fun then pop it into my friend’s mouth. I do not have the habit of smoking. Not yet.


The piano sits in waiting. Its keys have been molested by so many talented fingers, fondled note by note into glorious rhythms and miraculous melodies. It has been a year since I’ve played. Who will hear me? Will I be one to cause passers-by to stop and listen? Or has my talent vanquished? Will my playing hinder the rehearsal of the music students next door? They rehearse; I practice. For what? I will not know for at least a decade.


I enjoy dating. I’m a great date. I laugh at the boy’s jokes and make several of my own. I never wonder where this will lead beyond a frivolous romp in one of our beds. This particular date isn’t as handsome as the others. He’s not my type. I never let him know.


The house craves attention. It is holding my phone hostage somewhere in its depth. Silly house, my guitar is right here.


Break-ups are awful and stimulating at the same time. I feel empty but independence owns a special sense of fulfillment. Fun multiplies itself by a hundred as friends gather to support and men vie to be the rebound. My personality becomes overwhelming. He always held me back. I was meant to be the center of attention and became tired of sharing the spotlight. Tonight is all mine.



I hold a secret. Does that bother you?