Inside My Head

the literary rantings of Angie Frissore

Distraction

I went to the show to forget him. I wanted to be distracted by the other one, the one I’d used as the focus of my unfulfilled desires for over half of my life. This was mainly because I knew fully well that the other one would never be mine…there was an odd sense of safety in that. I could not lose a person who was never mine, and I needed to not lose someone.I tried to brush aside the feeling of loneliness involved in entering a packed club as a solitary entity. I made my way over to the side of the stage, near the ramp leading up to the backstage area. This way, I figured, I could avoid the awkwardness of having to look for him.

My plan was starting to backfire almost immediately once I saw him up on the stage. It wasn’t him sitting there…it was the Southern Man. All I could see was Southern Man‘s face sitting where the other one should be. The sense of imminent disappointment was creeping up on me as I tried to shake off these tricks my mind was playing on me.

I had to admit the band was pretty good. I hadn’t been that late, perhaps ten minutes at most, but already they were playing their last song. There were knots in my stomach as I wondered if my appearance would be seen as the act of a desperate little girl who never outgrew a crush. Would I look like a sad being having come all this way alone, to see the band of someone to whom I was never close to begin with? More than likely.

Just as the second band was starting to play, the other one came down the ramp. I reached out my hand, smiled and yelled ‘Hey!’ as cheerfully as I could. There was a brief exchange of pleasantries, including the ever-famous and always welcome hug that had the other one wrapped tightly around me. It always felt like how I’d imagined hugs felt from someone who truly cares about you, but I could only theorize.

Having to go do his band thing, he rushed off with the promise of returning in a few minutes. Twenty minutes and a beer and a half later, I realized just how pathetic I was looking to those around me at that moment. I couldn’t even pretend that I was into the next band, considering I had a good seven to eight years on the members and most of their crowd.

I made a trek to the ladies room, deciding to be on the lookout for him. I emerged from the restroom, slightly disoriented from having rushed through the last of the beer. When it dawned on me that even if I did run into him, it would be hard to notice in the dark, packed club, I left. I didn’t bother to linger or scope out the area to see if he was around, I just made my way down the street, around the corner, and back to my little corner of the world

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October 23, 2008 - Posted by | No Messages - Excerpts from the Draft | , ,

1 Comment »

  1. These seem smoother that whenst I last read them.

    Comment by Mike | October 25, 2008 | Reply


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