"Such a strange vine wrapped around my neckbone, twisted up between my step"
I sang, off key, while roasting hamburger buns over a pan.
The heat seemed to singe my arm hairs off, I had anticipated the awful aroma of burnt hair to arise and tingle my nose hair, but it never showed.
My friends happily splashed around in the pools like ever so graceful sea otters, working their appetite up for the delicious hamburgers that were about to be served.
I love matt's house, one could literally sit there for hours on end, his backyard is filled with heavenly white noise, the kind of noise that seems to cancel out disturbing noises, such as the speeding semi-truck, or the annoying car alarms that go off every ten minutes.
His backyard contains a pool, that catches the most amount of sunlight, and heats up during the day time, like a jacuzzi.
He has two beautiful dogs though, their characters balance out however, one's a complete (well, maybe not so complete) ass hole, and the other one is just straight up chill.
I hang around his house so much, I most often refer to it as my second home, I've stepped foot in that house with complete happiness, and stumbled in that house with complete sorrow, and almost always his family addresses with warm hugs and hellos.
Wonderful absolutely heaven sent people. Like a second family.
Hanging around their place almost most always tends to make me forget about things in life that bring me down, and it's a good feeling. I'm always refreshed when I leave. Sometimes it's as if there's a burden lightly lifted off of my shoulders.
Today there was a barbecue, and as I somewhat casually crept outside, I heard the over so familiar sounds of laughing and good conversing. I seemed to walk into the house with just too much on my shoulders,
the burden couldn't be lifted.
I tried, as we sat on the diving board, my hands filled with the slimy sticky ketchup and mustard, as I stained my pants, and I drank a beer and smoked a couple of cigarettes, and as I attempted to play guitar.
I tried to shoo the pain away,
I tired to forget.
I tried to laugh it off.
But somewhere in the back of my mind (or should I say the front of my mind), it lingered, lingered like the smoke of a cigarette, or the taste of bitter beer on my tongue.
It lingered like a dog that has a certain sense that there was still food present on the table.
It lingered like the way beatles songs get caught in your head.
I drove away without saying goodbye, I regret that now and look back to why I did that.
I didn't want to say goodbye, because in a sense, I never wanted to say goodbye in the first place.
I've always just wanted to be happy.
But there's a strange vine, one that's stuck on me and will not shake loose.
to my second family:
sorry I didn't say goodbye this time.
I really appreciate your love towards me.
There was still a tad of a burden lifted off of my shoulders which is this:
It's better I was with you, because the time i spent with you, I could have spent alone.
So, thank you.
And i want to thank those of you who are reading this and have sat with me, and talked with me about it.
Maybe i'll look back on this one day and laugh my ass off.
But as for now,
it's just a stange vine.