Keep this OFF the Record
Emma Hoop

I can see the lights on in the room above the door from where I’m sitting. I know you’re not home because you just left another message on my phone. I realize I’m looking for you in all the wrong places, but it’s a habit I learned from you. The lights are on to comfort me while you’re away. There’s a sleek, dark green pick-up truck in your neighbor’s driveway. It reminds me of your expressive eyes, the way you look when you know what you want, and our old joy rides – when it was more about the ‘joy’ than the ‘ride.’ I’m here waiting for you to come home. I miss you when you’re out on the road. Everyone in town does. You’re just a little, lonely boy against the world with three friends and their guitars.

I can feel the cool night breeze running its hands through my hair, knotting it and tossing it across my face. I feel like she’s pushing us apart. I’ve heard rumors of all the boys and girls making out in cars, and I pray she keeps her hands to herself. You say you’re “just friends” but I know what “just friends” do on desperate nights. She’s created a cold front between our two warm, beating hearts. Miles stretch out between our hands and bodies, making our short-lived reunions hard. This lack of evidence is starting to affect me. I’m decaying on the dance floor – melting under bright lights and booming beats of sweaty music. I’m a whisper among the screaming, open mouths. Days blend together, except for our telephone conversations and long-distance letters.

I can pretend I’m holding it together, but these looks and words are killing me inside. I’m fighting bandits with bad news about all the girls that say they love you. But I try my best to believe you when you say you’re coming home soon. You left the lights on to fight the darkness and the demons that eat us both alive. On the drive away from your house, the tinny car radio screams your latest hit. The notes burn through the speakers and scorch my skin. Every drop of every sound cuts me to the bone and reminds me you’re not home. But you’re still my favorite song.