Shine On Brightly

Shine On Brightly

I don't know if I rocked like a motherfucker, but I had fun tonight. I certainly sang my ass off. I don't know where I found that energy. I sure wasn't feeling it before the gig.

I love the new sub drummer. He wasn't as consistent tonight as last week, but he still kicks the shit out of most of the material, and he took a solo in the middle of Funk 49 that was a blast to watch.

It'll be a month before he's back. June 17th, two days before my lease is up and I move back to Cincy. Tomorrow's gig (well, later today) is with the regular guy. Damn.

Lots of tension off-stage. Onstage it was great. The singer got good and drunk beforehand, and he's funnier than shit that way. But his reasons bother me, the same as MY reasons for downing a double scotch three times later in the night. We're feeling the end coming. He's not letting on what he really feels (because he never does) but he's upset about all this. I know he's upset at me and Matt both, but he also knows we have to go, why we need to go. He wishes us well, but he's still pissed, because we've ALL put an enormous amount of energy into this band, and it's all going to hell at the end of September. I don't blame him, I just wish he'd say it. Instead he got fucked up and..well...it was a lot of fun anyway.

I've drank far less in the past week or so than I have in a while, but I did my part to deplete the alcohol supply of Marion, Indiana tonight as well. Watching him left me with little choice.

This sucks on a lot of levels, and it's really htiting me hard tonight, but there is no doubt that what I'm doing is right. I'm going to be closer to Katie. I'm going to be driving less, not killing my car as much, or my budget. I'll have some fucking TIME on my hands again, instead of this psychotic schedule I now keep. This is the right thing for me to do. But I have to give up this band, and I didn't want to do that just yet.

And...Amanda...

I checked my cell phone 74,000 times tonight. She never called. After the gig, I saw a message had come in. My heart jumped into my throat, did six backflips, three Hail Marys and sang the national anthem. She called! She called!

Nope. It was a message from Mom.

Fucking Hell.

The gig helped, but I still thought about her. Still wanted to talk to her. Wanted to HOLD her. Sex was Priority Number 947,612 tonight. Well, except for that one time. And the other. And oh, that chick by the bar. And the one...

I'm kidding. It really was way back down the list. For once. My arms ached for two reasons tonight. I was beating the shit out of my bass, and I wanted to hold Amanda. Look into those eyes. Die there and be reborn.

She really has a hold on me.

Sitting there at Steak & Shake today, trying to enjoy my lunch, but mostly feeling like sixteen layers of rancid dogfuck, it occurred to me that something really bad was happening. I was doing something really wrong.

Looking for happiness outside of myself. And letting her unhappiness at me leaving control me.

It scares me. I think back on how badly it has fucked with me in the past when I know I've upset a woman. I HATE that feeling. When Susan left me, I was a goddamn basket case for months. After the divorce last year, I was a dangerous person to be near on a highway. Knowing how much I'd failed, how bad of a job I'd done at making these women happy, I went to the extreme of denying myself any happiness as over-payment.

I can't do that again. I can't allow the disappointment I feel in the wake of discovering Amanda's true feelings towards me to control me, to divert me from the path I know I'm supposed to be on. I can't.

But that look in her eyes. Cold hard fire. As if I'd betrayed her and pissed on her.

I can't get my head around this. That I could have meant that much to her all this time, but I'd never known. But doens't it make sense? Jesus, this is the first fucking time in my life I've done this RIGHT. I've given her tons of space, tons of time. I've planted seeds, and they've been damn good ones. I've not been overbearing, but I've made it clear how much I like her. I handed her a handwritten copy of one of the most beautiful love songs ever written, and I told her she was worth waiting for. I've been GOOD to her all this time.

And now I'm shutting it down and going away.

She knows why, and it's why she'll get over it. She's met Katie. She's got her own daughter. She knows (because I've told her) how hard it is to be away from my girl. She understands. But...I've hurt her.

It's hard to accept. The self-loathing part of me is saying "Well, that's no surprise. You've shit on every other woman you've claimed to care about, why not this one, asshole?"

Fuck that. I've done my damndest to do this right. This is just bad luck coming at the backside of some really good luck. It's never one or the other. I get to be with Katie more and have a saner life. But I've had to sacrifice the band and a shot at Amanda to do it. And...that's the way it has to be. It just is. It sucks, but so does the price of most things worth fighting for. You do it anyway, because it's right.

I'm holding on to hope. That maybe something will still happen with her, in some way. Somehow. But I don't know. I can't just yet. I'd like to believe I can salvage something from nine months of being in her world. I hope I can. but I don't know.

So I wait on that phone call.

Dammit.

Love,
Dougie