Your Name In Lights... Or Maybe Just On Bricks, chapter 7

I had gone over to Billie Joe's to tell him the bad news. It was going to be hard, but I had plenty of motivation. My want for everything to go back to normal was driving me to do it. It was driving my body more than my mind. As I walked to his apartment, my legs just took me there; I wouldn't let myself turn back.

After he buzzed me up, I told him I had to talk to him and we sat on the couch.
"What is it, Julie," he said. He was anxious. He knew this was going nowhere.

"Well, you know that our band was kicked out of the Gilman... " I trailed off. I had told him the night before. He had felt awful about it, but I told him that I chose him. That I would rather be with him than have a bunch of people pretend to be my friends as long as it satisfies them and no one else. I wasn't quite sure if it was the truth though... I wasn't quite sure of anything.

"Anyway- you know that without a deal right now, we're not going anywhere. After all, that's the only way you guys kept playing after you were banned. You guys had a deal. We don't. I mean... this place just won't help us anymore if you get what I'm saying... "

I looked at his eyes. I think he said something, but I'm not sure. At that moment I thought of the night at the Gilman. I thought of the spray paint and the cheering. I thought of how I might never hear cheering like that again. I thought of what I wrote: "Billie Joe must die." Of course, I didn't mean that, but then it hit me; the look in his eyes hit me.

Oh, God. I'm killing him.

I choked. I couldn't tell him. I knew he had figured it out after all. I couldn't do this to him, and I sure as hell couldn't let him do this to me. He was dragging me down, emotionally. He made me feel so bad, and I just couldn't deal with that anymore, whether it was right or wrong.

I got up and started to leave. I opened the door as he finally said something.

"Promise me no dead end streets... and I'll guarantee we'll have the
road," he blurted out.

I turned around with a confused look on my face. "What? What are you talking about?" I had no idea what he meant.

He shook his head "I wrote it. It's from a song I wrote. I don't know why I said it... It was about you I guess."

He'd never really know how much those words hurt me. He really meant it. But this was why I had to leave. He was killing me. I was killing him. Sure, dieing together would be awfully romantic, but metaphorically it would be Hell. I left, and to my surprise, he didn't follow me. He never followed me.

***

It always has to rain. It's like Mother Nature likes to mock your sadness; mock your tears.

It rained that day as I walked back from Billie Joe's. It rained as we loaded up the van. It rained as we hopped a plane back to Illinois so we could visit family and friends for a little while before we headed back out to who knows where.

I think it rained for a week.

I think I cried for a week.

Yes, Mother Nature seriously has some sick humor.

Once we were back and at home again, I felt better. I saw my old friends again, my family, people I hadn't seen in about a year. Two days before we decided to go to St. Louis to see if some of Darien's friends could find some play for us, I went out to see my friend Hannah. Hannah and I weren't as close as sisters or anything, but I'd always gone to her with stuff. I swear she had all the answers.

We got lunch at Panera Bread Café and, of course, she asked about the last year. I told her about the band, about the shows, the Gilman, Billie Joe- all the above. I never really asked her questions, but she could tell I needed answers nonetheless.

"Well, did you love him?" she asked about Billie Joe.

"I don't know... I hate that word. I mean, I hate to use it lightly, 'cuz it's a very important word, but how am I supposed to know if I'm in love unless I use it? How do I know when I can use the word? People always say you just know and it feels right, but it always feels right. That's what confuses me. But, if I spend my whole life afraid to say 'I love you' because I won't mean it, or because I don't think I should, then I'll never say it."

She nodded her head. See, to someone else, my thoughts would seem random, confusing, or just downright insane, but to her, I swear she shared part of everyone's mind because she always understood what you were talking about. She was really smart; she really was.

"Well can you say you love him? Can you say to me right now: I love Billie Joe? Maybe if you can say it, you can use the word, and if you cannot, then you can't use the word. I think you're just too nervous."

Nervous. That's it exactly. I told you she was smart. I would try it. And, good lord, you couldn't imagine how hard this is to do.

"I... I... I can't."

She looked at me and smirked a little. I couldn't believe my issues. I mean, I really had some.

I knew this smirk; I had stumped her. It's like a video game: Once you stump her- game over. I swear I'm retarded. Or insane. I'm starting to sound like Holden Caufield.

"I don't know, Julie. Maybe your feelings for him will go away. Maybe you don't love him. You should just think about it. You could talk to him about it. You could call him," she said as more of a question than a statement.

"No. I couldn't. I broke his heart, Hannah."

"All wounds heal. Instead of giving him a brand new one when you have enough nerves to talk to him- which could be as long as years- you could just call him now. I'm just saying, talking to him would help the both of you, and doing it sooner would help even more."

"Yeah... I guess. But I also guess that just means I hope to goodness I never see him again, because I just can't. I'm sorry. I know I'm difficult."

"Don't be sorry. We're all difficult at some point in time. If that's what you feel best, then it's your say. I'll always be here for you, you know," she said, and this was why I loved this girl. I told you she was a genius. She could say anything to me and I swear I'd never get mad at her.

And that was what I felt was best. There was no use in meeting him again. I couldn't make any promise to him, because I always broke them, and then I would feel awful. I blamed him for that. I knew I shouldn't, but I did.

More than that, though, I didn't want to make him feel any worse. You can't just stop loving someone after all. I just had to move on and pretend I didn't. Maybe in time I really wouldn't love him anymore, even though I always said this, and it never worked. It would work this time, though. I could make myself get rid of my love.

Oh my.

Love.

There- I said it.