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And Now You Know

Jason Rimbaud


It's strange how a voice from your past, a voice that only lives in your memories, can affect you like a disease, leaving you feeling sick and weak.

The voice I'm speaking about, Jason. The boy from I'll Never Wear Boxers Again. He calls me out of the blue today, under the guise of telling me about the birth of a child, our mutual friend Dave had his first baby boy.

This disturbs me, we haven't spoken in almost two years. The last time we spoke was at his fucking wedding for Christ sakes. The day after we fucked for the last time. Talk about dysfunctional friends.

The whole thing creeped me out. When my phone rang, I got a funny feeling, like someone had walked on my grave, stopped, then took a piss, before continuing on. Usually, if I don't recognize the number, I let the voice mail kick in, but for some really weird reason, I picked up and said hello. The silence was deafening when I heard his voice. It brought back so many memories, memories I wished I had lost.

And this pisses me off, because the moment we started talking, it felt just like...well...just like old friends. There was no awkward chit nor was there awkward chat. We started laughing, joking, reminiscing about the good old days. Time spent apart didn't seem to tarnish the connection we had since the first moment we met. And I fucking hate that. He doesn't deserve a place of honor here, not when I can't have him.

We spoke for over an hour, remembering times when we were alone. He's married and has a little girl, and though he went on and on about his baby, he never mentioned her, not once. And I fucking hate that as well. Who the fuck does he think he is? Acting like the divide between us didn't exist. Acting like he didn't choose a life that didn't have a place for me.

Towards the end, I finally asked the question, why did you call me? Why didn't Dave call me to tell me the news? He answered, but it was so weak neither one of us wanted to acknowledge it. If for only an hour, we were together again. He kept saying that he had to get a new cell number, that his old company was overcharging him. Which was why I didn't recognize the number. I wonder, if he called me, just to make sure I had his new number.

Did he want me to have his number? Did he want me to stay in touch? Did he remember that in three days it will be eleven years since we first met? Does he even care?

A part of me hopes he does care, but another part, the biggest part, knows he can't. Regrets are something everyone can afford, but changing a mistake isn't that easy. You can't change who you are, you can only hide. Hiding destroys the best part of you, hiding destroys your ability to tell the truth. I wonder if I ever got the truth, I wonder if he could even tell the truth.

After we hung up, I re-wrote this piece, something I had written a few months ago but felt something was missing. Oh Jason, how you stir my creativity. My fragile friend, my elusive muse.

And Now You Know

By: Jason R.

You called me up on the phone today

It was a struggle to find the words to say

They say time can heal all the wounds

But I?ve been sick since before the womb

Just so you know

I?m not the one that you once knew

That lonely kid all alone in school

I?ve made a new life accepted it all

I embraced the name you wrote on the wall

And you know

When I needed you most you weren?t there

More than alone and broke beyond repair

I lost more of life reaping what you sow

I don?t hate you but now you know

When my father died I stole his last breath

I was addicted to lust and flirting with meth

My first trick was a boy with your face

A suicidal thing with a beautiful taste

And did you know

Confronted my mother about the sins of the past

Screamed at a tombstone about death too fast

Wrote a thing or two about a boy named John

Accepted the fact that most of me is wrong

Just so you know

When I needed you most you turned away

You were afraid of what others might say

So you stayed safe and I went to skid row

I don?t hate you but now you know

The question I ask is why the years of lies

I know you liked me in between your thighs

Each night you might lie next to your wife

But I know you miss me and our secret life

Yes I know

In the end I guess I?m finally doing fine

I?ve leveled out and reasoned the rhyme

Next to me lies a boy I call best friend

And yet if I had to I?d do it all over again

And now you know


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Jason,Your blog title is apposite. I know 'you' not at all, yet I seem to know 'you' far too well. It worries me.

A part of me hopes he does care, but another part, the biggest part, knows he can't.
Of course he cares (how the hell would I know). He might be married, he might have a daughter, and they might be the most important part of his life at present, but I'll bet he's spent a lot of time thinking about you. About the part of his life he couldn't handle.Camy
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I wrote a huge response, thought the better of it, and didn't post it. I'm sorry I did that, but it's water under the bridge. I cannot undo what I didn't do, by doing it now, as the dynamics of the blog have changed, with Camy's post, so I can only say, "I think Camy's insight is uncanny".

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Hey Des, if you write a story about that, then I want full credit for giving you the inspiration.Camy, are you spying on me?Trab, I just think you're cool.Seriously, thank you all. Jason R.

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Hey Des, if you write a story about that, then I want full credit for giving you the inspiration.Camy, are you spying on me?Trab, I just think you're cool.Seriously, thank you all. Jason R.
Hmmm. Working title for new story:

'The Persistent Ex-Lover Syndrome"Inspired by Jason Rimbaudwritten by DesDownUnder

Is that what you mean Jason? :whistle:

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