loss for words

when they said the phone was for me i felt the cold hand of dread tickle down my spine

no one ever called for me at work

and if they did they certainly never asked by real name

the last time it happened it was the police

they wanted to ask questions about a destroyed toilet

a detective

for the record

i had nothing to do with that destroyed urinal or restroom

or the bomb at burger king

i still occasionally get questioned in the things i didn’t do

like urinate in the cooler of food before the big cookout

i wasn’t even aware i was blamed for that one until recently

this time was different

i was guilty



“#*$” *redacted to protect the

not innocent


i suppose that is accurate now

“i lost the baby”


i said okay

she said what she said and i said okay

i didn’t know what else to say

as some kind of liquid ran down my cheeks and i stared at the mortal kombat poster on the wall

the sounds of pinballs and juke boxes and multicolored lights designed to lure the player in flashing and calling behind me

i said okay

and then neither of us said anything

while she was processing the loss

i was processing the pregnancy

she hadn’t mentioned it prior to the call

the box tops song the letter came on

and i stood

shell shocked

punch drunk

incapable of saying anything but okay

because i lost what i didn’t know i had and it felt dream like and unreal

she just wept

“i’ll be there soon”

dial tone

it was an hour drive to her

i left the music off as i drove

it became the rule after that to take a message for me at work

grew gun-shy of the phone

with reason

she was furious with me for my reaction

i was tentatively angry at her for keeping it from me until it was too late


outside i was loving and there for her

it nearly killed her

a month later

when she thought she miscarried it was really a ectopic pregnancy

long nights at the hospital

worry fear sadness

but we were over at this point

we died way before any of this

ours was one of those amazing sexual relationships with none of the other stuff that makes a good couple

and that was fun for a while

a good while

the things we taught each other

ritalin and booze fueled adventures through strip clubs and hotels across the state

but not enough to sustain anything meaningful

one night after we broke up she came to my bedroom window in the middle of the night

she was half dressed and drunk

passed out and woke up to find her date undressing her

she slapped the hell out of him and came to me

i held her through the night

then took her car and broke into the guy’s house to get her stuff as the sun rose

element of surprise and he handed me her stuff as i flared with bravado

turned out he was a black belt and had nothing to worry about from me

but neither of us knew that at the time

i broke his jaw and left

woke her up and got her dressed and sent her home

but as i was sitting here drinking coffee and watching the rain

my phone rang

and for a second i thought it was her calling to tell me she lost the baby

and i wanted to say more than okay

but i still didn’t know what to say

and couldn’t even if i did

5 thoughts on “loss for words

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