You’d think this title would be about my neighbors. Okay, you wouldn’t know that but one of them has a flat ass. I did not know there was a term for it until I was watching a tarot video one night and the reader mentioned pancake ass. The moment passed and I was thankful the batteries in the security cameras did also. But months later I would be in a back bedroom and look up to see the light on in a room across the way in a neighbor’s apartment. There, standing in front of the window, was a heavier-set Caucasian woman with no top on. She looked quite happy to just be staring over at me. I immediately looked down and left the room but now cannot unsee her chest. I don’t think I have ever seen flat tires as breasts. Maybe it was a long-tail warning that my tire would go flat.
But that is far more attention than the neighbors deserve. American Flats follows the period right after Gold ‘n Silver. We were no longer speaking but in thinking about him, I cannot even imagine how he felt all those years. Even with the excuse of erased memories, I treated him more like a friend or good buddy. All of the dates and what would have seemed like disregard but each time coming back to him. Yes, she made him my happy place but it-he-was so much more than that. I am sure there is much that would hurt or need to be discussed or that the humans cannot wait to reveal. I think he might have said that he chose me for the first part of my life so that we would not actually be together. I don’t believe him. I try to empathize with all that he kept inside. The stoic look on his face. I wonder what it concealed? Was I Icharus or was that you? We should have locked hands and destroyed them all. And such pain from pasts together.
I do not care as long as it stops.
Do we owe each other apologies? Perhaps but I would much rather rest my head on his arm while we watch a movie or fall asleep with my body resting atop his. I miss him.