With Regards to Aimee Mann

"Now that I've met you, would you object to never seeing each other again? Cuz I can't afford to climb aboard you, no one's got that much ego to spend."

I'm always amazing at first. There's passive flirting, I single you out for attention without making you uncomfortable. I never commit so obviously to the flirt that I can't retract at the first sign of danger. I ask you questions about yourself. I'll remember everything you say, I'll be on your side.

We'll go on a date. It'll seem like it was your idea, but I led you to it. It won't be like any first date you've been on. We'll stay out/up much later than you usually do. We'll tell stories. We'll connect. I know enough about anything to hold up my end of the conversation. We'll kiss too soon, we'll talk about why it's okay, because we've known each other for a while. It's not like we're strangers.

I'll make you a CD. One of those songs will become Our Song. I'll kid you about your musical tastes. You'll watch movies you've never heard of. You'll feel like you've discovered a whole new culture. You'll credit me.

We'll become a couple. I'll stay over. A lot. You'll stay over at my place some.

But I won't ever clean it up. My messy car will seem less charming every time you get in it. Eventually, we'll stop taking my car at all.

I'll sleep in when we could be out and about enjoying time together.

My funny rants about everything will get old. I'll start to seem less like an observer and more like a critic. You'll tell me I'm a little judgemental. You're not the first to say it. I'll defend my position.

You'll wake up one day and see that I've invaded your life. We watch my movies, listen to my iPod. You quit watching your favorite shows because I'm such a dick about them. I'll make you feel stupid for liking what you like, how you spend your time. You'll feel small because you don't read enough, or contribute the way I think you should. You'll put too much stock into my opinion and wish you hadn't.

You'll love me but feel trapped. You'll remember the early times, when I was amazing. I seem to have quit trying to charm you. I've stopped wooing you. I've got you and you want it to be like it was. You hate how it is.

I'll be oblivious. When you try to talk about it, I'll down play it. I'll be defensive. I'll blame you. You'll try to regain the high ground in your life and I'll accuse you of changing. You'll feel guilty and frustrated. We'll stop sleeping with each other. I'll ignore your calls and take too long to call you back. I'll stop calling. We'll punish each other with silence. We could solve it, but one of us has to make the first move; you'll be too hurt, I'll be too proud.

"It's not going to stop, until you wise up."

I'll realize how close to losing you I am and I'll scramble. I'll address it before you do. I'll say I'm sorry. I'll work to save us, but it'll be too late. When my efforts fail, I'll blame you for not trying to save us.

We'll break up.

I'll do it again with someone else. You'll date the polar opposite of me. Someone more normal, more grown-up. He won't care what you listen to, his house will be clean. He won't seem as exciting, but he'll be stable.

I'll be sweet to you when we run in to each other. We'll be fond of each other and a little sad about how it turned out. As if we couldn't control the outcome, as if it were fate. We'll act like I didn't sabotage us with neglect, with pride.

You'll move on. I'll start my pattern over again.

I'm sorry.


Or... maybe not. Maybe I'll wise up. Maybe I will try every day to charm you. You'll feel wooed and wanted. Not with sweet romantic gestures alone, but also with practical mature decisions. You'll see that I can stablize. I can still love the Lost Boys even if I'm not Pan any more. I'll strike a deal with adulthood. I'll meet it halfway. I'll take you seriously by taking good care of myself. I'll try to match your goodness. I'll shut-up sometimes. I won't need to win every battle. I'll choose fewer battles to even fight.

Instead of "I love you," I'll say, "Thank you." Because you deserve a little more gratitude.

And even though I've got you, even though you've committed to me, I'll still be amazing. I'll flirt with you. I'll charm you. You will be treasured every day. We will have fun. We will be fun. I will go from Has Been to Could Be.




I hope.


Hold Fast,

Caulfield