"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 there.

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 because that’s what you wanted.

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 four months now.

Friends.

Now you wanted more than what we had been.

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 in the rearview mirror.

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 and the world was never kind to you.

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 and gave to you.

1991.

We spent that entire year together.

Being close.

Growing closer.

Three semesters together at USM.

Spring.

Summer.

Fall.

Happy.

We’d graduate together in August 1992.

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 for you.

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 waiting on you before you even

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 the words on your lips.

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 when you find them

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"


 

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