Everything Must Go

Honestly, if you were to ask my opinion, I would hafta say that I'm pretty sure her voice was the first thing to go. To really leave me. For me, at least.

Lemme explain.

I have all the pictures, so I'll never forget her face. I have all the memories we've shared, and when I focus on them hard enough, it almost feels like I'm there again.

With her.

Enjoying all the best moments we shared once again, even though I know my mind is playing a horrible fucking trick on me. Those emotions and thoughts and feelings that I have aren't real anymore, but they sure feel like it.

And I have her perfume. A whole bottle. It was a gift that never got open before she left. So I'll always have the sweet, sensuous aroma of her at an arm's length away if ever I'm getting down on myself.

Because that smell helps fuck with my mind enough to think she's still somewhere close to me. If I lie and force myself to believe I wasn't the one who depressed the little trigger on the bottle of perfume, anything's possible.

Sometimes I do that, and I almost believe she's in the next room. That if I hurry up, I can see her again before she walked out the door.

But it's just another lie.

And it hurts.

And I'm angry with myself for getting this way to begin with.

If you'll bear with me for just a second, I might also be able to answer a question you may or may not have.

Yes. I do have a camcorder. And I do have videos of us together. So, in theory, I should be able to remember her voice.

And I do.

But it's not the same.

Not by a long shot.

My TV and computer both have a tendency to play back a little on the tinny side. Sure, i can pop in some earbuds to cut out the tinny sound, but then you gotta remember every differet brand of earbud or headphones or whatever you wanna use seem to calibrated a little differently. None of the most expensive brand I could buy could ever truly give me back the sound of her voice that I was most familiar with. None of those brands could ever playback the same soothing tones she had.

I can hear her voice in my head when I think about it. Or when I see something that reminds me of her, but even then, it's my mind fucking with me.

It's my mind's interpretation of her beautiful voice. I knew her and loved her and spent every waking moment I could with her, but, still, her voice seems to have escaped me.

And I miss it.

I miss her.

I don't wanna even think about what's next to go.

I don't wanna be around for the day that her face becomes some distorted illusion of what I'd like it to be.

Or for the day I hafta dig deep into the recesses of my mind to remember her name.

I don't wanna be around for any of those unimaginable nightmares. She was mine.

And I loved her.

-And she'll be back tomorrow, sugar.

-What? Who are you?

-It's Martha, you know that. I'm your nurse, handsome.

-Right. Martha! What was I talking about, beautiful.

-Same thing you always be talkin' about, sug. How you afraid you never gonna remember your daughter's voice, even though she was just in the room.

-Chelsea? My Chelsea was here?

-Mmhmm. Who you think just walked out the room?

-I ... I don't know. Will I see her again? Do you know?

-Yes, darling. She'll be back tomorrow. She's been here everyday for the last year, wishing you'd snap out of it and remember who she is.

-Who?

-I'll tell you tomorrow, sug. It's lights out.