#whenlightsfade

This time of year, it’s cold -- but he’s colder than usual. The walls are too thin, the windows not properly sealed. Ventilation problems are what keep him up at night. There aren’t enough blankets to ward it away because, somehow, it’s gotten beneath his skin. Burrowing itself deeper into the veins. Not even the warmth from her body beside him can help.

He knows he relies on her too much. Maybe he shouldn’t but it feels safe and secure. Selma is steady, consistent. Selma is his foundation. Idealizing women has always been a terrible flaw. Before her, there were others who found the disadvantages in his weak points. Not with Selma though. Through it all, she built him up to make him stronger.

Today, he wasn’t around her as much as he should’ve been. Things with him had been different lately. If Selma noticed, she hadn’t said a word. Always so quiet as if she spent all her time in her own head. That wasn’t true though, was it? Because he was the one locked away in the downstairs room, writing and writing or doing nothing at all.

Inside of the room, it was colder than last night. Damn it. Can’t even think straight in this damned cold. Monty sat back in the chair, staring at the typewriter before him as if that could will it to write. Blank, damned blank. His mind, the sheets of paper – everything in this God forsaken place was one over-sized blank canvas. Inspiration was lost to him, fleeting pieces of a past that would never reconnect again.

Everything around him was so quiet too. Even Selma. Sometimes he wondered if she was alive anymore. Words ceased to form legible sentences in his head. Like faint whispering between two different people but always hushing whenever she was around. Where was she now, he wondered. He had to check up on her. He had to make sure she wasn’t doing something she oughtn’t be doing.

Monty wandered out of the den, heading towards the living room where she sat with her back to him. Once again, always in her own world. And he didn’t blame her. Hiding behind his writing wasn’t doing either of them any good. Selma was persistent about only one thing and he just didn’t see why. Wasn’t she happy like this, just the two of them? He remembered a time when he wanted kids and with her too – but things were different now. Things were different and he didn’t know why.

“Can’t you feel that?” he asked, his voice loud enough to startle. He strode across the living room to the unlit fireplace, kneeling beside it to stuff some newspaper beneath the log inside. With a match from his pocket, he struck it then lit the paper. And, for longer than he should have, he remained staring into the flames. It wasn’t supposed to be this cold.

He looked over his shoulder at her from where he knelt. “It’s like hell froze over.” Then, standing up to face her, he narrows his eyes in suspicion. His hands are on his hips and he’s disappointed because she hasn’t said anything yet.

first holiday break. he has no expectations. he knows that if he’s going to expect something good that would be like expecting snow out here. los angeles hardly ever rains. it’s funny though, there’s a lot of tears. or maybe he thinks there should be more of them. there should be tears and heartache and a load of other things. but there’s pretty much nothing. nothing here but the sunshine still out a little too late. and the cool air biting through clothes, christmas lights, christmas songs. his mom is out on some tropic vacation she sent a post card. he doesn’t know why he’s back. but he figures it’s all routine by now. you come back home to have something to say when people ask where you going back on campus. you say you had presents, carols, and everything in between. pretty lies.

there’s a haze over everything here. maybe he came back for her. they haven’t seen each other since graduation but somehow it feels longer. somehow it feels like they’ve all managed to live decades in the span of one year. one year. everything changes. and now they’re just some knock off version of their parents. and he figures it can’t get any worse than this.

a haze with the heavy taste on the inside of his mouth, the loud sound of music and him moving towards her. they caught up in some stuffy version of a get together a couple days ago. people they hated at school and people they forgot. all there. like those little get togethers. to catch up on all the things that you don’t even really care to know about.

Dear New Empire,

“The Voice” or voices actually and instrumental perfection that you possess, though “So Far Away” from where some fans live, makes us want to “Follow” you and your music to the ends of the earth. “The Secret” that I have kept about you guys, is that I believe each of you holds the assets that a “Hero” would have, but that may only be my “Imagination” or opinion on you, only.

There are fans “Across The Oceans” that would catch a “Train On Time” to be “Here In Your Eyes” even if it meant encountering “Ghosts”, a steep “Staircase” or even a “Tightrope.” If You would only “Come With Me Tonight” or any other fan, to a place that may be a “Long Way Home” you would be able to tell us beautiful things in “Colours From Black And White” like “If He Hurts You” then you shouldn’t be in love and that there will be always be “The Summer Sky” that you can depend on for a smile to cheer up with.

What every fan probably wants you to say is “Take Me Back” to whichever state or country they live in, because a band as perfect as you, well, you guys have been “Worth The Wait” as at last we’ve found a band that is loving and caring with moving lyrics.

Again, what I and every other fan wants for themselves is for you to “Give Me The World” one where “One Heart /Million Voices” sing along to songs such as “Lucentia Uno.”

You guys form a band with perfect “Symmetry” and we cannot wait until the next time we see you perform, or the next album that you release. Thank you for being so amazing, and for everything.