It’s there, just under the surface of my skin. Like an itch that can never be scratched. It hits me fast and hard. My foot is tapping out an imaginary rhythm on the floor. My body is unable to contain the energy with in. So I do the only thing I can. I go, grabbing my keys, slamming doors and squealing my tires on the driveway. Now I find myself behind the wheel of my car. The windows rolled all the way down, so I am getting a full blast of the uncommonly mild July weather. Two minutes past midnight and I’m driving God knows where. I’ve got the radio going full blast and I’m singing my heart out along with it, unconcerned with how this makes me look to anyone else. Honestly, at this moment I don’t even think the appearance of God himself would make me stop what I am doing.
This need that’s been building in me has finally taken over, and the rational part of myself is no longer in control. But ask me if I really care. I don’t know if I hate this or crave it. I feel like I’m going to explode and shatter into a thousand pieces, the energy consuming everything around me. But at the same time I feel hyper aware of everything around me. My eyes see clearer than they have in a long time and every subtle shift of air is felt along my skin. My mind processes every image, feeling and thought. They all become ordered and tangent, each fitting into it’s proper place in my memory. My heart beats like the rhythm of a hard charging rock song and my blood burns like the fire in a torch singer’s voice. If I could find the cause of this feeling I would, but somehow I can’t. So I become a slave to it one more time.
Only this time it’s different, I’m not wandering aimlessly. There is a direction to my madness. A quick right turn and then a left. Past the park, wait for the light to change. I know where I’m at, where I am going. Straight to you. Do not pass go. Do not collect two hundred dollars. I’m going to do something foolish tonight. And for the life of me I can’t find it in myself to give a damn. I’m tired of watching life from the sidelines. I’m tired of doing the right thing, being the good one. I’m just tired. So now I give up on the secrets. I stop feeling like I have to do it the way everyone else wants me to. Damn it I’m going to do it my way. I’m going to put myself first, screw the consequences. I want to kiss you, taste you, feel you. And not in the tender gentle ways that people always assume I do things. I want it to be hard and fast, and ache and burn more than anything ever has. Pleasure and pain mixing perfectly. Mom never talked about this when she gave me the speech about what nice little girls do and don’t do. Boy was she missing out.
Half way there and my hands are beating out the rhythm of the song on the radio. How cliché is it that the crazy gay girl is blasting Melissa on her stereo? And how much do I really care? Maybe when this whole thing blows up I can blame it on the music. Temporary insanity brought on by the words and feelings heard in her voice. And maybe I’ll just be honest. I’ve been waiting too damn long for this. Smiling when I wanted to cry, being supportive when all I wanted to do was point you in the direction that led you to me. Holding back when all I wanted do was touch. It’s all been too much for me to handle, so now I take the bull by the horns. I jump feet first. And I... I get shot down.
Half a block from your house the song changes. Hard fast rhythms are replaced by soft guitars. I pull over before I get there. It’s over. What ever insanity had taken me over leaves just as quickly as it came. The energy deserts me quickly, leaving in it’s place the old familiar feelings of fear. I know my place in your life. Despite what I want it to be, or need it to be, you are the one the makes the rules. So now all I can do is turn around, go home, and put my life back into the order that everyone else wants it to be. I’ll go back to being the good daughter, the best friend, the shoulder everyone leans on. And I’ll put the feelings that are so close to the surface now, back where no one can see them.
I pass the park again, wait for the light. Left turns and right turns. But there’s a smile on my face as I make my way back home. I tasted it again, that feeling of being free. And I made it further this time, almost to your door. Sooner or later the part of me that directed me on this late night trek will take over completely. I will make it to the door, and put my needs first. It may not turn out the way I want, you may never want me the way I burn for you now, but by then I’ll be in control. I’ll be the one who sets the rules.
If I Wanted To
by Melissa Etheridge
If I wanted to I could do anything right
I could dance with the devil on a Saturday night
If I wanted to I could turn matches to gold
I could smoke drink swear and never grow old
I wouldn’t have to be in love with you
If I only wanted to
If I only wanted to
If I wanted to I could run fast as a train
Be as sharp as a needle that’s twisting your brain
If I wanted to I could turn mountains to sand
Have political leaders in the palm of my hand
I wouldn’t have to be in love with you
If I only wanted to
If I only wanted to
I could leave tonight
And I would be all right
Stop holding on
If I wanted to
If I only wanted to
If I wanted to I could be as patient as death
Fix this hole in my heart leaking into my flesh
If I wanted to I could turn sparks into ice
There’d never be another who could make you think twice
I wouldn’t have to be in love with you
If I only wanted to
If I only wanted to
End.
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