Letters To Our Lovers – LTOL Part 3.
Dear Palindrome,
I have one photo of us. It’s our last day together. We’re at Broken Hill Airport. You’re escorting me to Darwin and it’s painfully clear. I am draped over you, all smiles and hope. You inch away from me, contemptuous and worn.
That photo doesn’t need a thousand words. Your face says it all.
I called it love but I was ignorant, selfish. I spent hours searching that image for an answer, but I didn’t see you. You warned me, but I didn’t hear you.
Everything I needed to know was right there in that photo. In hindsight it’s painfully obvious. I feel bad for that poor kid. He had no idea what’s was coming. He had no idea what he had.
Palindrome, imagination got the better of us. We dreamed-up a future, bought a van, got a cat (Crumpet, do you remember?) and drove west into the sunset. We broke down in the desert.
She jumps on the bench when I’m mixing up. She’s saved my life so many times and I tell her, ‘I’d love to move on Crumpet. But how could I forget you?’
‘Love’s complicated,’ she purrs complicit. She knows.
Crumpet’s still with me- my longest relationship. Every day, and every night, across every season I’ve kept her safe for you. She misses you; even hopes you’ll come back. Whenever I have another woman in my bed, Crumpet flashes me a look of loathing, like I’m betraying us. You have the same look in that photo.
You know I almost lost Crumpet to that highway. There’s a lot of roadkill out west. I’d hate to think of her like all them scorched-up, dried-out, mummified critters that litter the roadside all the way to sunset. Palindrome you’re water for the desert, and I squandered every drop. The roadkill is me, leeching blood into the red dirt.
It’s obvious now, that last photo. But Crumpet ensures I don’t get too lonely. I try not to think of you too often. I still feed her every night and Crumpet still saves my life from time to time. We make a good team. She believes in the dream. I reside in the nightmare. Together we get a good night’s sleep. I’m not looking forward to my first night without her.
I should be fine. I survived us. Anyway, she’s only a cat.
xoxo
Alex Brownsmoke
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