the coffin...or an old girlfriend

i got some calls from an old girl and a friend. at that point, i just wanted to burn up and swallow my pride, but i told her that i still loved her when i turned out the lights. she told me her pillow was wet whenever she woke and dreamt of me. i told her that my hands were still sweaty every time i thought of her. i also told her that i wished that a plane would come down into my apartment every time i thought of her. she told me that i was being melodramatic again and that she wished she never called. i told her that's okay. i wished she never called either. but then she began to cry. i'm a sucker for sad girls and for this girl, who never cried, i was even more of a puddle of mess. she told me that she was drunk and remembered main and how i drove up after working a fourteen hour day just to be lectured by her mom about how i shouldn't be disturbing her family's trip because i don't believe in god. but her father told her mother that i was harmless and i never got her in the pants. he said that bluntly. i got in her pants for sure, but while i talked to her i didn't think of that. i thought of what i have and cried to. i'm such a dick sometimes. i forget sometimes that i'm years and drinks away from that shit. she wore boxing gloves in a photo i saw years later and i told her i saw them. she said that she was scared. i asked her why she was smiling. she said that she did it for looks. i told her that 'you dress up nicely for looks.' she said that she did dress up for looks. i'm years and drinks away from that shit.