Drunken words are sober thoughts in Musings

Drunken words are sober thoughts. That is something I will never budge on. Ever.

Mads and I will never work out because when he looks at me, I remind him of someone who died. Someone he loved. Although very flattering to see me that way… I will never, ever be Jonathan who died in the tsunami in Thailand. I will never be him.

Just because we’re both writers, just because we both have permanent bitch faces. Just because guys perceive us as people that need to be cared for. Just because we are both perceived as beautiful—that is not enough for us to be the same person!

All this time, Mads did read me, and honestly, I thought that he really saw me and perceived me in a way that was unique, turned out to be that he sees me and treats me as this guy, Jonathan (who by all intents and purposes was probably a sickeningly, amazing guy) but I’m me.

I’m not you’re atonement. Mads shouldn’t look at me and be reminded of and try to make me fall into the puzzle that would make his own life and existence easier because he wasn’t able to say ‘goodbye’. I am me. I am Andy. I’m not Jonathan. I am nothing like him. Perhaps, we have similarities… Perhaps we were both troubled, cocaine, drug addicted people---- but he was him…and I am me.

Mads went into this spiel about how I’m just like him. I’m just as insane, troubled and vulnerable just like Jonathan. Excuse me if I’m wrong and cold-hearted— but Jonathan is fucking dead. I am not dead and even if he reminds you of me, I’m fucking living.

And then that’s when I saw this weird, vulnerable side of Mads. When I told him the fuck off about comparing me to anyone. He looked at me with his steel blue eyes and I could see that his heart broke. “I’m not anyone but myself. If you think that I’m someone else then you’re just like all those other assholes who I don’t remember there names” and as he tried to make amends with me for his dumb words, I just smiled.

He pushed me against a wall and said “I don’t think your like anyone!” And I retorted well “Drunken words are sober thoughts Mate” and smiled. And he just dug his head in my neck and I patted his back “Just know that just as I happened, I have to disappear”

Once I said that he started tearing and holding my hands. I spent 3 years of my life being beat, married, trashed by a man who I adored and still love. I spent so much of my life making excuses for him…what I want, what I truly fucking want is for someone to be so wholeheartedly, insanely in love with me that he will look at me the way that Mads is still in love with Jonathan. Even after death---- and I refuse to have anything less.

So after he kissed me and I said “everything is okay” he lost track of me… And I walked out of the bar, forever.

His text messages:
baby where are you??
Andy!!! Fucking respond.
14 missed calls.
21 text messages.
4 voicemails.

Mads I’m not him. I will never be him—not because I think I’m better, but because I know better. I’m not you’re atonement. And it hurts me because I’m lonely and I liked you so much, but I have to think of the bigger picture. I have to take care of myself.

He said that I was broken, but in reality—he’s so much more broken.

I jumped into a cab to my lonely soho apartment with an air mattress. And all the way there I cried. I cried for me. I cried for him. I cried for Shane and Alex. But most of all I really cried for all the lovers who have loved so fucking much that they’ve sabotaged themselves.

People tell me I’m handsome, pretty and beautiful… But what the fuck does that even mean when I’m fucking lonely?