Wednesday, September 28, 2005

 

So Julie.

"So Julie's gotta head off,
Cos Julie's gotta head on...," he sang off-key, obviously swimming in his own lonely cloud of depression. He breathed in the familiar smell of cigarettes, the same kind that she smoked. So familiar...Why this time? Maybe he had too much to drink that morning.
He was not sure himself. He might still be dreaming.
Still the scent that reminded him so much of her lingered on. It seemed to be her. Why is it here? How did it get here???
Surrounding him, so much so that he could feel her presence.

Her beautiful, innocent smile. Slightly mocking and proud, but beautiful nevertheless. Lacy dress, felt uncomfortable when he fingered the material. He never knew how she could wear it. He never dared to watch her dance in the front seats, even after she had insisted repeatedly that he did. Regret washed over him as he recalled sitting behind, way behind in the shadows, where no one could see him. He could picture her in his mind, dancing in that beautiful dress. That red (she told him, a dark, almost maroon-like red) dress. Didn't matter. It could be black or orange or purple for all he cared.

Beautiful Julie, dancing gracefully under the spotlight. The orchestra playing in the background, grand and flawless. Booming in his heart and making him irritated. He HAD to hear her dance, had to. Somehow the orchestra seemed to drown out her movements. Occasianally he would be able to hear the light, graceful steps. The rare times, when it would make him breathless. He HEARD her, actually HEARD her dancing!

Now, gone. Where did she go, he never knew.
Gone, without a word. Gone like the wind, the bloody fucking wind.

He sometimes would wonder if she thought of him. On some balcony, smoking the cigarettes (which he could smell again suddenly, but maybe it was just his imagination again) like she always did, in her red dress, looking resplendent, her hair blowing in the warm wind. He could visualise her beside him again, him touching her lips and feeling her smile. Wondering if she was genuinely smiling.

It came like a old movie playing, an uninvited memory. Suitcase that he nearly tripped over. Soft, leather with "pores", similar to canvas. Lost, panicking immediately, he rushed into the room, tripping over little sharp things that he didn't bother feeling. Called her, room felt empty. He had felt anger, confusion. Where'd she go suddenly?!! Left him. Tried to persuade himself that he might have wrongly entered the apartments. NO. He went back to check. Double(maybe triple)-checked. Twenty-two steps, shoe rack and pillar. Everything felt the same, yet, inside, empty. He ran down.

Checked again, and nearly gave up, until he had accidently touched a piece of something with the back of his hand. On the fridge. A note. Still angry, extremely frustrated with himself and feeling too helpless to think straight, he got the kid next door to read it out. Could not believe what she wrote. But it was her, alright. Would love to deny it, but the tone and the words she had used, it was her. Julie had suddenly morphed into a heartless (bitch? no, he could never use that) person. She had to go, to find another world for herself. To learn new things. He understood it as she had gotten sick of him, and needed an able man, a better man. A man who could see, at least.

Bitterness.

Was she using him all along?, he asked himself, not really wanting an answer. There was still, after all, a little bit of hope inside him that she would return one day. And dance with him again. And laugh at him again for being clumsy and silly and funny all at the same time.

His thoughts drifted away again, wistful thoughts of the past.

One floor below, a woman in a black dress was leaning over the balcony, smoking a cigarette. Smiling softly to herself as she heard him sing another song about her.

"So Julie.."

"So Julie" song by Jason Lo.


Comments:
wistful
 
wow. comment of the year! one word.
HAHAHAAHAHAHAH!! @-)
 
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