AC says, “I want to be your friend. I want to be your lover. I want to be everything for you.” Yes, really said those words. To me. Sadly, he’s saying them nearly two years too late.
After five months’ silence, he appeared on the other end of my phone Monday night, on the other end of a long distance line from his mauve home on a beach in Jamaica.
Yes, simply for the house and its location, I should listen to AC with a less jaded ear. But how can I? I’ve danced this quick-step with him before. Over and over for fifteen months. Over and over.
“I want to be everything for you, babes,” he says again. And I feel hard-hearted. Mean. He’s saying all the right things. All the loving things I wanted to hear when I loved him. But my heart is still sore from the error in judgment known here as The Morphine Man. I can’t walk casually back to AC, can’t open myself to the havoc he is so able to wreck in my life.
But what if I’m wrong? What if he’s this whole new, other person now, the person I believed him to be when we met? Can I close the door between us without really considering that possibility?
And then there’s Andy …
For so long
You and me been finding each other for so long
And the feeling that I feel for you is more then strong, girl
Take it from me
If you give a little more then you’re asking for
Your love will turn the key […]
I just want to be your everything
Open up the heaven in your heart and let me be
The things you are to me and not some puppet on a string
Oh, if I stay here without you, darling, I will die
I want you laying in the love I have to bring
I’d do anything to be your everything.
I’m actually not making fun here. In junior high, I might literally have sacrificed an arm or leg to have a boy say those words to me. But here I am … and there’s the boy … and I had nothing to say. Didn’t want to say yes, but couldn’t make myself say no, either.
He called again last night, and I had even less to say. No clue what to do next.