Monday, March 22, 2004

life of buddy don, chaptur 110:
hurtin them ye luv


the secunt half of our year in west germany wuz much bettern the furst half, manely on a counta how we give up sum of the thangs we wuz a trine to do thar, witch in my case twuz to do sumthin in flossofy n in emilys twuz to git all her research into the weimar republick dun. in sted, we quit doon much of innythang besides studyin english n amurkin literchur. corse, that meant we had plenty of time to take trips, eethur with frieda or not. fer instunts, she tuck us on a lil tour of the wine lands n we ate down in binge. but we also tuck trips on our own, such as one to luzern, switzerland.


so twuz a lil bit of a sprize n even disappointment to find out in early june of 1980 how emily dint have but bout a munth left before she had to use her ticket. i wood be stayin fer bout a nuther three weeks after she wuz gone. we had been dreamin of when we could go back home but whenever twuz time, seemed lack we wuz a'wishin we could stay sumhow.


corse, thangs woodnt never have been lack they wuz then. we dint half to wurk on a counta we had that stipend a'cummin in. we had friends n books n plenty of time. lookin back, tiz easy to see how twuz one of the best years of our lives, tho at the time i dont thank we saw it quite thataway.


in sted, we bof kep ourselves a lil deepressed by how we wuznt able to git no good ritin goin. we wuz bof trine to git a new novel a'goin, me on a counta havin had the grate eggsperients of ritin crap notes, emily on a counta how she always dreamed of bein a riter but jes dint lack to say so out loud.


mayhap that wuz why we gut to fussin n fitin lack we dun. thang wuz, it drove me to distrackshun how emily wood not ever do innythang that meant she wood half to speak no german. so i had to do all the bankin n mos of the shoppin n all the bill payin n yew name it. so twuz that one evenin we gut into such a fite that i wished i coulda slept sumwhars else.


i had finely gut sumthin goin, or so i thought. lookin back on it now, tiz easy to see how twuz jes a nuther blind ally i wuz ritin myself into, but at the time, it thought i had finely gut a nuther novel a'goin. we wuz sittin thar in the englisches seminar jes a'wurkin away. twuz maybe two hours befor the bank wuz spozed to close. emily had a class that tuck a hour n i wuz hopin she could go by the bank afterds n then cum git me to go home. she wonted me to take keer of the bankin n meet her after her class. that meant i woodnt hardly have no time fer ritin, so we gut into a lil fuss n fite overt to whar i couldnt git myself to rite nuthin no how.


we parted unhappy. she sed ifn i dint wonta go by the bank, twuz my bizness n we could git by fer the weekend however we could, witch thay wuznt no way we wuz a'goin thru the weekend with no money, so she won by refusin to go. off she went fer her class n i tride to rite a lil but purty soon i give it up n rote a angry note in my diary bout how awful she could be.


witch that brangs me to a point i wonted to make bout folks that rites. bad thang bout ritin is how it seems lack nuthin gives ye the urge moren bein eethur mad or sad. so ifn innybidy wuz to read my diary, they could thank i wuz miserbull my hole life long, witch tuther half of the reason fer that is how whenever yer feelin grate, ye dont hardly have no urge to go rite it down.


innywho, that afternoon i member ritin one of the angriest thangs i ever writ bout innybidy. i finely left n did the bankin n went n splurged on a wurst n pommes frits n a coke, witch the hole thang cost dm2, witch that wuznt much but twuznt sumthin we wuz in the habit of buyin. innywho, i dint enjoy it.


in sted, i stood at the lil stand whar i bought it n scribbled out a lil story bout a fella who had gut in a huge fite with his wife n then stormed out of the house. he tuck a lil walk to calm down n finely deecided to go back. whenever he gut thar, he found po-leece had dun surrounded his place n sumbidy had murderd his wife. he knew he hadnt dun nuthin, but he reckonized the anger in his own self, how he had dun wished she had been gone, so whenever he saw whut had happend, he confessd.


once i had finishd ritin that, i felt better, even a lil guilty bout buyin myself the sausage without thankin bout whut wuz emily a'gonna eat. but i cum home, story in hand, lack twuz sum kinda treat that wood make up fer her not havin no dinner reddy. we had a habit of readin whutever we had dun writ out loud to each other. i wuz alreddy later than she wuz eggspecktin me, so whenever i cum in, she wuz eager to make up, witch that meant she wonted to know had i writ sumthin n ifn i had, wood i read it to her.


i tride, but bout half way thru, i couldnt read no more fer how it made me wonta cry. i knew as i red it how twuz a hurtful thang. purty soon she sed twuznt her fault i couldnt git a new book goin n she walked out.


twuz a awful nite. i dint know whar she coulda gone, but i figgerd she had called frieda, witch twuz eggzackly whut she had dun. i stayed home, waiting n wonderin till up in the wee hours of the mornin, in she cum, a lil drunk n reekin of cigrettes even wurser than normal. i pertended to be asleep.


thang is, i caint hardly member nuthin that happend twixt the time i red her that story n whenever she wuz gone back to tennessee alreddy. i do member jes how awful i felt bout bein alone. i deestroyed that story, witch i thank tiz bout the only one i ever dun that to.


thays a sayin that ye only regret that thangs ye dont do. ye dream of sangin in a rock n roll band n never try? then yer a'gonna regret that. ye wonted to be a famous astronut but never tride? yer fixin to regret that. ye wonted to be presdint but never tride pall ticks? more regrets to pile up.


but im here to tell ye how the wurst regrets kin be bout the thangs ye dun n wished ye could undo, the pain ye give to them ye luved that ye wish to ungive. wurst of all, i had dun revealed how i felt to emily n she never forgut it.


wurse than that wuz how i couldnt fergit it neethur.

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