Cal 

I never wanted to put this one up. I never thought I would, but it was a part of my past, the same as all the others. And tonight feels like the right night out of all of them.

Cal

I don’t even know how to say it. Those first three letters of your name trapped on my tongue, because I’m so upset I stutter when I speak, even more than usual.

“Cal, Cal, Cal” falling from my tongue like raindrops in the wind. Blowing my hope away; and no matter how much I try I just can’t get it out, and those tears begin to trickle down my face.

I know it was my fault you said goodbye. I know that we’re a not so distant memory trapped inside the archives of my heart. Filed under C. A C drive that’s been filled so many times with all those happy memories of us.

I never wanted to fight. I just wanted to talk and hold your hand, I wanted to squeeze on tight whenever I was hurt or sad. I needed you, I still do, in one way or another. Just so you can help me say your name.

“Cal, C-C-Cal, C-Cal,” it still won’t come. It still won’t leave my tongue, but it’s written in these tears dripping on this page I write on now. Because just thinking of your name reduces me to tears. And each Cal seems to represent a fragment of this broken heart.

I lift those teddies you gave to me. We named them after us. C-Cal, and D-Davie. Two bears that still love each other. Two bears who once brought comfort to these shaking hands. Nothing. I still can’t say your name.

I need a walk, so I lift my keys and the wallet you gave me. A Christmas present. Those tears begin to pour onto the soft worn leather. Worn because I frequented it so often, looking at the picture of your little face trapped inside. Each visit a step back to a memory. A memory of you and me forever preserved by pictures of that time.

I take it out and sit. Staring at your smile. Those brown eyes staring back at me. I see a love you don’t have now. That little smile, a smile that I can still remember, like looking through a window into yesterday. A smile my smile visited too little of the time. Drip. Now that smile distorted, by my tear ending time.

I scrunch it up in my hand. And I bow over. Because I can’t raise myself it hurts so deep inside. Because if I knew then, what I know now, I’d have never let you go. “C-Cal,” I’d have never let you go, I’d hold you in my arms forever, you and I, frozen in time. With you I could sit and write, word for word, how I loved you, rhyme after rhyme.

I still can. I still love you C-Cal. But I miss you. I miss the times you made me laugh, I miss how we could speak and you seemed to make everything better. I miss having you here because the truth is. I’m scared.

I’m scared of what will happen. I’m scared of my health and my heart not holding out. I’m scared of my home, and whether or not I’ll have a place to stay come the end of the year. I’m scared of college and this new adventure and education that awaits me.

I’m scared of losing you. A friend, a best friend long before a partner. I’m scared of losing that. And I’m scared of facing everything without you. Just because you made everything okay. You were a comfort. You were everything I ever needed, everything I ever wanted, and someone I cherished and loved so much.

But what scares me most of all. What scares me more than anything. Is not being able to say your name. “C-Cal”, please. Help me say it. If even for a moment. If even you could hold my hand, and tell me, “Everything’s gonna be okay,” just say it, just so I can say “Goodbye, C-Cal”.

I sit there, those tears dripped down my shirt, only on me an hour ago. Already ruined. You liked this shirt. You always did. And you liked these jeans, and you liked that cardigan, that jumper, this aftershave, this, that, everything. Everything reminds me of you.

“C-Cal,” I can’t. I can’t say it, and I can’t go on like this. I just can’t take it anymore. I never thought love could ever cause this. A feeling so simple, so beautiful, but a feeling that can shatter a heart in an instant. I hate myself for causing this.

Maybe I’m just seeking to blame someone else. Maybe that’s why I tried to blame you and I know I was wrong. Because it feels like it was all my fault. I’m the cause of my own misery; and writing this has just opened my eyes to all those problems there between us, problems I caused.

But I’ll never read this back, and I’ll never know what I did, because every time I go to pull the page, it breaks. Made fragile by these tears that seem to want to erase you, from each cranny of my heart. And it’s pulling me apart, because I never wanted to let you go.

Now I must go. Because I’m done, my chest aches from all I’ve done. My body bent and broken by this shattered heart, which was smashed when I seemingly gave you the hammer and said “Go on, give it your best shot.”

Maybe that’s what being human is. Not that you make mistakes. Not that we’re all the same. Maybe being human is the fact that we feel like concrete when it comes to love. I once thought my love could never move. But I know now, my love was as fragile as a dove.

Now fluttering away. Now escaping from this pain, this life, through the only way I know how. Getting lost in my writing until it all just becomes too much, using each line to bring me closer and closer to my knees. Heart beating faster and faster, then falling to a crunch.

And as I hit the floor I can almost hear those pieces of my heart, spilt across the floor, echoing like a falling chandelier, breaking into a million un-fixable pieces, that can only be fixed by one word.

But as I go, I go to say it, and the words won’t come. I stutter. Because trapped on my tongue are those first three letters of your name. The word that just won’t come. “C-C-Cal” and then I slowly whisper, “Goodbye”

David Magill

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1 thought on “Cal ”

  1. Yeah …….. I remember Cal. Callum, I believe (it’s been awhile, and my brain – like the rest of me – is developing “age spots”). Kind of reminds me of someone I was deeply attracted to, and I thought he was to me; only to find out that he really wasn’t. Left me clinically depressed for most of the year – 1983. The only benefit from that was I lost a lot of weight ( depression should be bottled and sold as a dietary supplement).

    As time wore on, I discovered my first “gay bar”. The bar tender was a “Reagan fired” ex- Air Traffic Controller. Imagine that – another “gay” Air Traffic Controller. I finally could “talk shop” to someone without having to “keep secrets”. It was the beginning of the rest of my life, and the weight of depression was lessening quite rapidly. 1984 was a very good year. I was finally happy in my own skin. I think maybe this might be something most everyone goes through at one time or another in their life.

    From experience I know that time does heal all wounds; but as with all wounds. I believe that you have probably arrived at that place too.

    Take care, Davie. Life is going to be fabulous 🙂 .

    “BZ” …………….. ❤ "FOGGY"

    Like

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