"Girl you told me you were not like the rest
Then you showed me now you're failing the test
It was easy just an urge in the heat of the night
I believed you, now that's all in the past
Cause I made some mistakes but I'm learnin' fast
Never put your heart on the line!
Never put your heart on the line!
I know it's silly but girl I really thought we had a chance
I must've been crazy!"
- Danger Danger - "Bang Bang"
Katrice
September 10, 1990
to February 9, 1992
The past few weeks
hard spent
trying like hell
to forget the feelings
that I had for someone else.
Lost in my thoughts.
Trapped in my soul.
Thinking about her.
Thinking about her way more than I should.
Where had I got it wrong?
What had I not seen?
A chance missed.
An oppotunity lost.
Alone again.
Story of my life.
Someone else is gone.
My life a sentence.
A rollercoaster of blues set to crooked rails on a rusty track I didn't build.
My room is a cell.
No parole but what I choose to give myself.
My spare helmet.
It still smells like her.
Her perfume.
Cigarette smoke.
Missed opportunity.
My regrets.
Sitting on my bed.
My classwork.
My text books.
Nothing has meaning to me right now.
Everything is just ... there.
At fingertips reach but not worth the effort.
Spinning the wheels in my head.
I really need a break.
The phone rings.
I've been ignoring it for weeks.
It rings again.
My best friend, Bill.
An invitation.
My
best friend’s house.
A
study group of strangers.
I
had nothing better to do.
A
cold September night.
1985
Yamaha Maxim 400.
Street
lights reflect from polished
black and aluminum.
Jeans
and a black T-shirt, harness
boots and black leather jacket.
Black
full face helmet in gloved hand, I walked
in like I owned the place.
A
chance meeting; you sat alone.
Back
against the wall, all
by yourself.
A
pack of Hershey’s Miniatures candy bars scattered
out over the kitchen table.
Special
Dark.
My
favorite.
Your
favorite, too.
None
to be found ecause
you’d taken them all before
I ever got there.
I sat down on a couch near you, wondering why I was even here ...
Lost in my thoughts.
Trapped in my soul.
Thinking about her.
Thinking about her way more than I should and not
even knowing you were
A
shy smile from over an open textbook.
A graduate of MSU, 1990.
Now you were at USM, working
on your master’s degree in Library
Science.
You
spoke first.
We
talked, just
us, for
hours ... about everything and nothing.
You
left late that night long after
everyone else had gone.
I
had a feeling about you ...
You started
something that
night.
I
thought of you in
the days to come and you
thought of me as
well.
Weeks
went by.
We
saw each other again and
again.
My
best friend’s house.
A
study group of strangers.
You and me, alone.
No longer strangers.
Sitting.
Talking.
Just the two of us.
Talking.
Even after everyone else had left.
Just us.
September
became October
October
became November
You got closer to me and I let you just because when I was with you ... I didn't think of her so much.
And besides ... I
had nothing better to do.
November
became December.
End
of the semester.
My
best friend’s house.
One
last get together.
The
group was smaller now.
Not
really a study group anymore.
Down
to just five.
Filtered out to just the friends.
You.
Me.
Bill.
Mel.
Eric.
A
Santa hat you left behind.
Christmas holidays.
The university shut down.
You
went back home, Flora.
Five minutes on a map couldn’t find the place you grew up.
A real shithole of a small town.
Telephone
calls.
Long
distance.
You
started something
Long
years and hard
experience before you should
have guided my heart
should
have guarded my soul
but I
broke my own rules
just
to be with you.
I
went to see you at your parents in
Flora.
I took
your Santa hat back to you.
Made
a special trip.
Made
a day of it.
Long
distance.
A two
hour drive; 128
miles one
way just
to see you again.
We
spent the day in Jackson
You.
Me.
But you’d
already made up your mind by then about me.
About
us.
Christmas came and went, me here.
You there.
New
Years, too.
Classes
were still a week away from restarting.
But
you came back to Hattiesburg early.
Because
of me.
Because
of us.
The
last of 1990 became the first of 1991.
No
more study group.
No
more strangers.
There
was just us.
But
you wanted more.
Me
to you.
Me
for you.
The
middle of January.
Two
weeks of me and you.
The
bedroom of your apartment.
Dark
and quiet.
Just
us.
On
your bed.
We’d
been together for
Friends.
Now
you wanted more than what
You
started something.
You
said that you’d never had someone like
me before.
You
wanted more than we had.
You
wanted what we could become.
And
that’s when you told me that
you loved me.
With
all of your heart.
With
all of your soul.
You
told me that you’d never hurt me.
You
told me that you’d never lie to me.
You
told me that you’d never cheat on me.
You
told me that you’d never leave me.
These were the promises that you made to me, the promises that you would keep ...
If I just gave you one chance to be with me.
You
said your promises were set in
stone.
You
said I could trust you.
You
told me that you were different than all
the others.
And I
believed you because I
really needed to.
I
told you that I’d been hurt before.
I
told you that you’d only get one
chance with me.
Ever.
Just
one chance.
You
told me that having
just one chance with
me, just one chance to be with me, was
all that you wanted
and
that you’d never waste that
chance if I ever gave it to you.
I
gave you that chance because you
started something that
cold January day there
in the bedroom
of
your apartment.
You
started something.
You.
And I
remember things about you …
I
guessed your middle name first try; Diane.
I
made you a microwave cake on your birthday.
I remember treating
you like a lady, being a gentleman every time I could.
I remember your
handwritten love notes.
You
giving me the key to your heart, a little plastic key and a handwritten card to go along with the key.
A
wall of me in the bedroom of
your apartment; a Christopher shrine.
A
handful of old things that were all you had to
call your own.
Your
white, four door ’85 Oldsmobile Cutlass Supreme that had seen its best days years ago.
An
old widow’s car with a bad transmission.
Your
roommate who was never there.
Living with her boyfriend’s mom while he fought in the Gulf War.
We had the apartment all to ourselves.
Bringing
you a fresh cut rose more
often than not.
Moments
spent together.
Memories
made.
Promises
given.
Dreams
begun.
The
sun in your hair.
Your
eyes.
Your
glasses.
Your
smile.
Your
tears of joy when you were happier
than you’d ever been before.
I
remember …
How
it felt to write your name, the curve of the letters as
the ink flowed from the tip of the pen in my fingers.
Memorizing your phone number.
Memorizing your car tag.
Answering
the phone and hearing your voice.
Ansel
Adams.
The
British Studies Program.
The
old red British phone booth in
the courtyard of the university library.
Meeting
you there between classes for
a kiss or
three.
The
picture of you I kept on my key ring going
with me everywhere.
In
my car.
On
my motorcycle.
I
remember …
Riding
with you on
my motorcycle your
arms wrapped tight around
me holding
me close.
I
remember …
Being
alone with you.
Us.
Words
spoken.
Thoughts
whispered.
Feelings
shared.
The
touch of your bare skin on
my bare skin there
in the dark.
Candles
flickering casting
our shadows on
the wall of
your bedroom at
your apartment.
Listening
to Jim Morrison and
The
Doors.
I
remember …
Kappa
Alpha.
Convivium.
Your
red dress.
Three
days of Old
South.
Walkout and the Pan Hellenic.
Your
Antebellum dress blue
and white with
a hoop skirt.
That
weekend we shared together.
The long
road trip in my '89 IROC-Z going
up to Mississippi State with you.
Your
memories of college shared with me.
Showing
me where you went to school.
Seeing
the university chapel where you
said you wanted to get married one
day ... to me.
New
Orleans.
Bourbon
Street.
A
Mardi Gras party at one of your library
professor’s apartments in the
French Quarter.
Jackson
Square.
The
green waters of the Mississippi
River.
The
River Walk.
I bought you naughty stuff at Victoria’s Secret.
Black lacey bra.
Black panties.
Black stockings.
Walking with you along the River Walk, you holding the Victoria's Secret bag.
Driving
back that night ... on the Causeway ... you crawled into the back seat of the IROC-Z and
changed into your new lacey
black lingerie
while
I watched you
Steve
Miller Band playing “Abracadabra” on
the radio.
“Silk and satin, leather and lace. Black panties with an angel's face.”
You rode back to Hattiesburg, sitting there in the passenger seat of my IROC-Z ... wearing your new lingerie.
It was everything I could do to keep my eyes on the road at night.
Your stocking clad legs and feet ... across the center console, rubbing against me.
The time we spent in your bedroom when we got back to your apartment late that night.
Memories.
Hattiesburg.
The
old library downtown.
Memories
of my childhood.
That’s
where you interned.
You
read books and stories to wide
little eyes and tiny
little voices.
Even
though you’d never be able to have any
of those to call your own.
You
were never very strong, you
could never take very much pain
I
felt sorry for you.
Your
life was filled with so much sadness ... so
much unhappiness and
a lot of just bad luck.
More
than your fair share.
I
wanted to take all of that away from you.
I
wanted to make you happy for
the rest of your life.
That was my promise to you.
I told you that I’d never hurt you.
I told you that I’d never lie to you.
I told you that I’d never cheat on you.
I told you that I’d never leave you.
These were the promises that I made to you, the promises that I would keep ...
I said you could trust me
I told you that I was different than all the rest.
That
was what I set in stone
1991.
We spent that entire year together.
Being close.
Growing closer.
Three semesters together at USM.
Spring.
Summer.
Fall.
Happy.
We’d
graduate together
You
with your Masters.
Me
with my Bachelors.
And we’d start our life together.
That's what you told me.
You
were so happy and August
was so close that we
could both see our future
shared.
Then things changed …
A
new job and a new start
The
library down in Biloxi.
Finally
a bit of luck for
you.
Good
news.
We
celebrated.
A career come early for you with the promise
of a
good job in
your major
graduated.
Your
life seemed to be finally
coming together.
You
were happy to have the
new job.
But
scared to move so
far away from
me.
From us.
From what we had.
From what we were going to have.
I
helped you move.
What
little you had.
Miles
and miles away down
on the Gulf Coast.
A
two bedroom apartment.
Cleveland
Avenue.
Long
Beach.
Walking
distance from
the sand and the
Gulf.
On
your own again.
Miles
and miles between
us.
We
were apart.
Me.
Here.
You.
There.
We
were apart but
there was still us.
You
told me that.
You promised me that.
Every time we talked you promised me that there was still ...
us.
And
I believed you.
You
were far away now.
Miles
and miles.
But
I kept my promises to you because
you were important o
me.
You
meant everything to
me.
One
last birthday of yours spent together that Sunday
in January in the bedroom of your apartment.
Happy
number 24.
You
had been sick.
You
still weren’t feeling well, you said.
You
seemed withdrawn.
Your
words to me were the
same as
they had always
been.
You
told me that you loved me.
With
all of your heart.
With
all of your soul.
You
told me that you’d never hurt me.
You
told me that you’d never lie to me.
You
told me that you’d never cheat on me.
You
told me that you’d never leave me.
These
were the promises that you had made to
me.
You
said your promises were set in
stone.
Except
this time your
words were hollow because
you had changed
and
the only things that
really changeare
the things that were
never true,
were
never real, to
begin with.
You
had changed.
I
knew.
Deep
down Inside.
I
could tell.
That
day
Your
eyes.
Your
heart.
Neither
matched
I
could tell.
What we had was somehow broken.
I could feel it.
Miles
and miles
between
us.
I
was faithful.
You
weren’t.
Behind my back while I worked days and nights just to make your dreams come true.
You were so scared that I'd find someone else to replace you while you were gone.
But it wasn't me that strayed.
You
had found someone
else.
Caught.
Not
expecting me to be down that day he
came looking for
you while
I was there.
You
both made excuses but
I’d heard it all before.
More
of your bad
luck.
You
said it was nothing.
You
said he was nothing.
Deep
down inside I
knew better.
Deep
down inside I
knew.
I
told you that I’d been hurt before.
I
told you that you’d only get one
chance with
me.
Ever.
Just one chance.
You told me that having just one chance with me was all that you wanted ...
... and
that you’d never waste that
chance if I ever gave it to you.
I
gave you that chance because you
started something that
cold January day
there
in the bedroom of
your apartment.
You
started something.
You.
I
should have realized that
you’d never be able to
finish what you started.
I’d been hurt bad.
Before.
Left for another.
Before.
I’d been told lies.
Before.
I’d
been told excuses.
Six
years earlier.
It’s
why I gave you just
one chance.
I
wasn’t going through all
of that again.
Never
again.
That
was my promise.
Not
to you but to
myself.
I’d
broken every single rule that
I’d ever lived by just
to be with you.
Every
single rule but
one.
Standing
there in the parking lot of
the gas station
near
your apartment.
Seeing
him.
Seeing
you.
Your
eyes.
Your
heart.
Neither
matched the
words on your
lips.
I
could tell.
I’d
been hurt
before.
Six
years
before
you.
Now
felt like then.
This
felt like that.
You
told me I
had nothing to
worry about.
Then a week later.
Five days before our second Valentine’s Day together
you walked out.
On me.
On us.
I’d
worked all weekend.
Two
jobs.
Three
shifts.
Night.
Day.
Night.
Working.
Saving
to make your
dreams finally come true.
You
were coming up from Long Beach to see me that weekend.
Things
changed.
Friday
night was no
good you
said.
Saturday you called and said that you
still couldn’t make
it
you
had to work an extra
shift that
day.
You'd be there Sunday.
You
promised.
You
said you couldn’t wait to
see me.
You
told me that you loved me.
With
all of your heart.
With
all of your soul.
And I believed you.
Because I really needed to believe that you were different than all the rest.
Sunday.
I
waited.
You
never showed.
Hours passed.
Afternoon.
The
phone rang.
Long
distance.
Your
voice.
Two
words.
You said
“It’s over.”
and
then you hung
up.
On
me.
On
us.
Dial
tone.
Miles
and miles between
us.
I
kept my promises.
You
didn’t.
I
gave you everything that
I had and everything that
I could.
You
told me that it was more than
you’d ever had before.
But
here at the end it
wasn’t enough for
you.
I
tried to make your
dreams come true even
if my
own dreams suffered for
it.
I
thought you were worth
it.
I thought I’d finally found the one I was supposed to spend the rest of my life with
because that’s who you told me you were.
I
should have known better.
A
year and a half spent
with you.
Wasted time.
Nothing
to show for it but a
hole in my heart
a
hole in my life
a
hole in my soul
a
hole shaped like
you.
From
our very first kiss
to
our very last
I’d fallen in love with
a figment of
your imagination.
You
could never be who
you told me you
were.
The
woman I loved didn't exist.
She
never had.
You
made her up as
you went.
Love
was … a
commitment for
me.
Love
was … a
convenience for
you.
You
were so frail.
But
sometimes frail is
just another word for
fragile.
And
sometimes fragile is
just another word for
weak.
And
sometimes fragile
and weak things are
already broken
are
already broken before
you ever bring
them in real
close to your heart
You
learn this and
it always hurts each and every time
ypu learn this.
It
hurts.
This
time more than the
last.
It
hurts.
The next time more than this.
It hurts.
And
I learn and
I learn with
every goodbye I
learn.
But I
hold out my hope and I
make my wish
And
I know that someday there will be a woman
who isn’t like you
who isn't like all
the others.
I know that someday there will be a woman
for me but you aren't her.
You never were ...
and
all that we had
and
all that we shared
and
all our hopes
and
all our dreams
and
all of your promises that you made
and
everything that you chose to leave behind
is just
dust.
Goodbye, Katrice.
You’re someone else's misery
now.
"Fell in love with a country girl, morning sunshine
She was up from a nether world, just to bust another soul
Her eyes were an endless flame, holy lightning
Desire with a special name, made to snatch your soul away, yeah"
- Black Sabbath - "Country Girl"