APRIL 2012 - ISSUE 03 - Massive Magazine

completely pointless items - dog food for
the dog we no longer had.
I hauled the lot to the checkout, dog food
and all, and paid far more than my budget
would allow.
But when I cooked dinner that night you
came out of your almost-room and ate with
me, though your dark shadowed eyes would
not quite meet mine, not yet.
+++
McDonald’s - $17.50
There were days which were better than
others, where you smiled easily and we
could chat and laugh about stupid things
that had happened so long ago, before
you knew I loved you and you went away.
Where we could sit in the sun and you
didn’t flinch from the light, trying to hide.
And those were good days and I drank them
in and spun them out, replaying them over
and over to get through the bad times.
Then there were the shadowy days, where
we drank tea and you recounted in a flat
voice all the things that happened since that
day long ago when you left, and something
inside me died a little because I did not save
you.
And then there were the black days, the
days when history showed on your face,
in the shadows in your eyes that even the
sun could not touch. And on those days you
did not talk at all, I simply told you stories,
made castles in the air for you to live in.
I gave you everything anyone could ever
want, because I could not give you enough
once upon a time.
One black day, you bent forward to hide
yourself from the blows which came over
and over in memory, and nothing I did or
said or offered would ease you.
“Do you want to go to McDonald’s?” I
blurted out, because it was the only thing I
could think of saying.
And you looked up at me and smiled that
sad, hopeful smile like one of those bloody
Disney animals in Snow White, and my
heart shattered when all you said was “Can
I have a Happy Meal?”
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The Party Shop - $54.99
In the weeks we spent together, the black
days faded slowly, leaving only their traces
in your eyes. We looked at pictures of the
boys we once were and I could pinpoint just
when I fell in love with you.
And then you wanted to throw a party,
and I said yes, and we bought enough supplies
to have a dozen parties if you wanted
them.
You threw streamers everywhere, light
fittings draped with pink and yellow crepe,
‘I thought you had changed,’ you whispered, and for a moment I
thought we might get away with just pretending I hadn’t messed it
all up again. But what was in your eyes turned to hate.
‘You sick fuck.’ And then you were gone.’
sending out shafts of coloured light. We had
cans of silly string and party poppers, which
you detonated in time to Destiny’s Child. I
tried to make the cocktail shaker work, to
remind myself that this was no kiddies’
birthday party.
Then you decided to deck me in streamers,
green to match the Midori which
stained the side of your mouth.
Old friends came bearing cocktail umbrellas
and bottles of bright spirits, shaking
them together while you played DJ, running
tunes from your laptop that brought
back memories of high school discos.
You were only a child when they came
out, and everyone laughed and called it
retro.
Then you smiled at me and with the click
of a button I knew you were playing my
song.
The night lowered and the drinks flowed
and I forgot all about the thousand small
ways I had broken you before you left me
that first time. All I knew was you had come
back to me, all I knew was hope.
So when you danced up to me in the garden
and sprayed us both with purple silly
string, I pressed close to you and cupped
your cheek. And right then I should have
seen it, or dreamed it, or remembered it –
some bitter warning from the past.
But instead I bent and kissed you, my little
brother, your lips tasting of orange and
vodka.
And I saw what was in your eyes, that
same look that drove you away six years
ago.
“I thought you had changed,” you whispered,
and for a moment I thought we
might get away with just pretending I
hadn’t messed it all up again.
But what was in your eyes turned to hate.
“You sick fuck.”
And then you were gone.
+++
Air New Zealand - $2100.00
You retreated into the room that was now
yours, and snuck out at strange hours
to eat, and refused to speak to me. You
would only look at me when you thought I
wouldn’t notice, and whatever it is you saw
in me you didn’t like, because you told me
you were leaving.
So I paid for you to go to the other end of
the Earth, to where you couldn’t come back
even if you wanted to, even if I begged you.
You packed up your life once again
and on the drive to the airport you stared
straight ahead and didn’t speak, a wall of
history between us in the front seat.
You turned to me at the departure gate
and you shook my hand and said good-bye;
and I crossed my fingers behind my back
that it would not be the last time I ever
touched you. I watched you as you walked
through security, slow minutes where I
hoped you would look back, just once.
Look back.
You didn’t.
+++
Liquorland - $39.99
bought the Bombay Sapphire even though
I I’ve never liked gin, because the colour of
the bottle reminded me of your eyes, the
eyes of the boy who broke my heart again
and again.
And I hid in the spare room that was no
longer yours and I drank to my pain, buried
in the sheets that smelled of you, my August,
my brother.
The gin burned my insides, sparking the
tears that flowed down my cheeks at how
I had destroyed it all again, this hopeless
man with the sick obsession. And with every
gulp I wished you back, wished for one
more last chance.
And I tried to drink until the pain stopped
and when it didn’t I fell asleep in that bed
which smelled like you, where I would
spend night after night until your smell faded
and all that was left was the scent of gin
and loneliness and me.
In the house that is no longer our house
there is a dish where I empty out the fragments
of my life and I try to find some pattern,
some code that tells me you’ll be back,
but all I find are the hours I stole with you,
and I wonder if I had a fortune to spend
if you’d have stayed, but I don’t and you
didn’t. So I scoop up the receipts with the
old gum wrappers and bin them, trying to
rid my heart of you, piece by piece.
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