A few years ago, I had been listening to the Michel Legrand song, "What are you doing the rest of your life?"- and the song title haunted me. Not only was the title extremely long; but it actually inspired me to write. I have no idea if it bears any relevance in my life today-(I wrote this in 2005) but maybe you can tell me what it means, dear reader? I wrote a response to the song. Maybe I had been in love then.
Tell Me Something- A Rambling, Incoherent Piece.
Tell
me something. What are you doing the rest of your life?
What are you talking about?
North and south and east and west of your life? What? I have no
clue what you’re trying to say. Yes I do.
I
have only one request of your life: that you spend it all with me! Oh. I
don’t know. I’m sure we can work something out. He laughs. He doesn’t think
it’s at all funny. Why are you laughing? I didn’t think that was funny. I was
being serious. I was just asking you…He interrupts: You were asking me what I
was doing the rest of my life. Of course, I will spend it all with you. Me?
Really? A wistful, sad tone rang throughout his voice. Of course, you silly.
Only you. You’re
all I ever will recall
of my life is all of my life with you…Shhhh. Time to sleep. Put your arms
around me. Ok. Good night. They held each other that night, as if the blankets
were about to enfold them against the dark world that was their cold little
apartment.
Tell me something. What? What do you
mean, ‘What’? You know what I’m talking about. If you did, what are you talking about? Tell me where you
were last night. Last night? Yes. Last night. Tell me. I was worried sick. You
know I go out a lot. Why worry? It’ll only make you sick. Sit down before you
have a stroke. Fine. Fine. I won’t ask. I just wished you could have called. I
don’t like worrying. Don’t worry. I’m a big boy. A big boy. Come on. A playful,
desperate tone was heard inside his voice. Sit down. I’ll get us a glass of
wine. Or maybe some coffee. What do you want? I don’t want anything. I just
wanted you to realize that I was worried. Worried that you might have left me.
Ok. I’m irritated. You want to know the truth? I was out. I’ve met someone. He
loves me. I’m leaving you. I like you a lot and it’s going to hurt. But I’m
walking out on you. I need someone to need
me. You don’t need anybody. You don’t and you know that. I’m leaving
everything. Don’t worry about me. Door shuts. He walks out. He is alone
standing by the sofa. He saw the look of happiness on his face. Almost elation.
The crushing feeling of rejection overcomes him.
What
are you doing the rest of your life….Little boy blue. Boy blue. Almost….WhatareyoudoingtherestofyourlifeYou’reallIeverwillrecallofmylifeisallofmylifewithyou.
Shhhh. I’m a blue boy. Blue. Almost Blue. But blue. Not beautiful. I’m
everything but beautiful. Yes. Everything but. Anything but. Shhh. Listen.
Don’t say a word…Sit down. I’ll tell you everything. But tell me something.
Tell me everything. Something. Why?
Because I think that I’m doing something. What? Something finally right.
It was rather cold the next day.
Cold and clammy. Feeling the November wind brushing against his cheeks. Sad.
Crying. Trying not to. Holding back. It had been almost a year. Since that
happened. One year. Well, too bad. But come to think of it, too fast. Too much.
Wishing. Wishing that he didn’t have to hurry home. He didn’t want to think
about it. About being alone. But that’s reality. It all comes and goes. Like a
flurry of fall leaves rustling about Union Square Park. As they fly round and
round, some of them trampled by a happy couple jogging. Or run over by the
irate taxi driver. Crumbling. Breaking. Like his heart. It had broken. So fast.
Sadly. He knew. It was over.
He saw him again about three months
later. Frigid February. He invited him to come inside. He tells him that it
didn’t work out. He tells him that it had been a mistake all along. But he had
been blind. He asks for forgiveness. Would he? I don’t know. Maybe. Maybe not.
Give me some time. The solitude’s been great. I like being pensive. A silence.
Then he breaks down hysterically. Watching this little episode made him feel
better. Knowing he had been missed. But now, he knew he was getting his vengeance.
Talk to me. Please. What’s on your mind. That’s
better. What do you want me to say? I’ll do it. I’ll be there in an hour. Don’t worry. In an hour. I don’t care if it’s late. It’s only
midnight…Soon it will be morning.
I’ve made my mistakes. I know I’ve
made them. But I tried so hard to love you. You hear me? I did. I tried. I
don’t want to be alone. What? Well, that’s one of the reasons. One of the many.
Many. Many reasons why I didn’t say anything. My heart’s bleeding, can’t you see?
Can’t you hear? It’s cracking. Heart cracks. Heart cracking into two. You don’t
have say anything. You don’t have to do anything. Just stay with me. It’s
because I want you to talk to me. I don’t want to be alone. No, not tonight.
Please. I’m asking. Asking. Hold me. He asks. All right. For
tonight. I will. Good. I want to be held. Tightly. Tightly. Tears. They pour
out. Like little daggers of hurt and pain soaking into his arms, upon his
smooth bare skin.
Shhh. Just close your eyes. I am
trying hard to love you. Don’t. What? Don’t try. Just do. But you don’t. What
does it matter if I don’t? Just do it. Love me if you want to. It’s late. Yes.
And cold. And I don’t want to be alone. I know you don’t want to be alone.
What are you going to do for the
rest of your life?…Oh, I don’t know. I suppose go off somewhere else. Go back
to school. I need to do something. Really. Yes. And you? I think I’ll stay here
in New York. Yes, and I will go on. Yes, you will go on. Alone. And you can
do it. I know I can. It’s just going to be hard without you. I feel the same
way.
Tell me something. What? What are you doing the rest of your life?
I know what you’re talking about? North
and south and east and west of your life. I will miss you. And I will miss
this. I have only one request of your
life: that you spend it all with me…I know. And you know we can’t. Pull
yourself together. Smile for me. Don’t cry. Sitting
there, counting my fingers….Good bye. Door shuts. He exits.
