I'd like to dedicate this story to BreAnna and Amanda, who helped me bring Cameron to life and who have been so supportive of me.
I am pretending you did not exist. Ink nightly washes black over my consciousness and abandons me as morning seaweed upon a foreign beach. I am pretending we were simply the sparkling imagination of some higher being, our life together set below a singular epic sky unrepeated in future histories. I am pretending I cannot taste you each day as I do the sea air in my breath when I am running, my heart tied upon one foot, ancient melancholy tied upon the other, anxiously racing, madly racing through lifetimes, to find our brightened souls. I see you in colors that don’t exist. It is all that I see clearly. and why I run.
-Paul Matsumoto
Then
Genesis - 22 years old
-
For just a moment, the briefest of moments, I swore I saw her eyes. Through the crowd of thousands of people I swore I saw her, but she couldn’t be there. Out there among the endless crowd. She would never come all the way to New York after what I did to her. I’d be lucky to even ever get a glance of her after everything.
I try to clear my head, shake the idea out because how could I possibly see her up on stage? How could I even see her amber colored eyes - that make me fall to my knees - through the shining lights?
It’s just the drugs, I try to tell myself, You’re just hallucinating.
I hear Brandon call to me and I wobble but quickly find my balance.
Grabbing the stand I smile wide out to the audience forgetting all about the playlist that’s set by the label. Tonight I don’t care, tonight I just want to let out something other than her song that I wrote for her all those years ago that we would be playing next.
Fuck the song. Fuck the label.
“How about a cover song!?” I scream out to the audience. The crowd goes crazy and my other band mates shoot me concerned looks then share the same looks with each other.
I roll my eyes and turn pointing to each one of them, “You guys don’t have to worry this is all me -" turning back to the audience - “I don’t do cover songs often, and probably won’t for awhile, but I’ve been on a Blue October kick lately -" several from the audience scream just adding to my atmosphere - “So you guys know them?!”
There’s more screams and I laugh strumming on my guitar, “Well, then here’s Hate Me by Blue October.” I begin to strum letting my mind slip as the words flow to me easily. The words that seem to be the story of my life lately.
Before I close my eyes I swear I see her eyes again just making singing this song even harder.
I have to block out thoughts of you so I don’t lose my head
They’re crawling like a cockroach leaving babies in my bed
Dropping little reels of tape to remind me that I’m alone
Playing movies in my head that make a porno feel like home
There’s a burning in my pride,
A nervous bleeding in my brain
An ounce of peace is all I want for you
Slowly the others join in strumming and tapping on the drums. I turn to them smiling as I continue to sing the next verse.
Will you never call again?
And will you never say that you love me
Just to put it in my face?
And will you never try to reach me?
It is I that wanted space
Hate me today
Hate me tomorrow
The crowd joins in singing with me making the song feel heavier on my shoulders.
Hate me for all the things I didn’t do for you
Hate me in ways
Yeah, ways hard to swallow
Hate me so you can finally see what’s good for you
I’m sober now for three whole months,
I can’t help but laugh/sing that line because it’s more been months since I was sober.
It’s one accomplishment that you helped me with
The one thing that always tore us apart
Is the one thing I won’t touch again
In a sick way I want to thank you
For holding my head up late at night
While I was busy waging wars on myself,
You were trying to stop the fight
You never doubted my warped opinions
On things like suicidal hate
You made me compliment myself
When it was way too hard to take
So I’ll drive so fucking far away
That I never cross your mind
And do whatever it takes in your heart
To leave me behind
Hate me today
I point the mic towards the audience and swing my guitar behind my back. I let them sing the next several lines. I walk across the stage trying harder than before to smile, but it was becoming more of a burden than ever before.
Hate me tomorrow
Hate me for all the things I didn’t do for you
Hate me in ways
The crowd singing swells me with pride. I pick back up putting a little piece of myself into the song.
Yeah, ways hard to swallow
Hate me so you can finally see what’s good for you
And with a sad heart, I say bye to you and wave
Kicking shadows on the street
For every mistake that I had made
And like a baby boy,
I never was a man
Until I saw your amber eyes crying,
I can hear the audience falter but I don’t care moving on with the song.
And I held your face in my hand
And then I fell down yelling,
“make it go away!”
Just make a smile come back
And shine just like it used to be
And then she whispered,
“How can you do this to me?”
I have to pause letting the other guys continue playing and when they come back around I start back singing with a shaky, uneven voice.
Hate me today
Hate me tomorrow
Hate me for all the things I didn’t do for you
Hate me in ways
Yeah, ways hard to swallow
Hate me so you can finally see what’s good for you
For you
I drag the end outpouring what’s left of my heart and soul into the song. The arena is quiet and I wonder for a brief moment if they can feel my pain. The anguish that’s multiplied I’ve been holding in for four months. I’d heard once time heals wounds but they’re just cutting deeper and deeper with each sip of alcohol or each hit of whatever drug I’m taking to help numb it all.
When I open my eyes I know the audience doesn’t feel my pain because they explode in a roar of cheers and encores. I look out to each of their screaming faces and frown because I swear I see her eyes again. I see they’re rimmed in red shattering my heart.
I don’t say anything, no goodbyes, no thank yous, I just walk off stage and throw my guitar at the nearest wall once I’m out of sight of the audience.
