Mars and Other Drugs

          It keeps coming back, ya know? No matter how hard I try, it's like fighting the tide. I try my best not to write about her anymore. I feel like she's been living rent-free in my head for too long, given too much space. There's not much of her left in there, but it's still enough to rattle me from time to time. There's this song: it's David Bowie's 'Life on Mars?' but it's a rough Portuguese translation by a man named Seu Jorge. Look it up, it's on youtube. Go ahead, I'll wait for you to start it up.
          I love Bowie, but in this case, I think I actually like Jorge's version better. It rings with so much emotion, with only his voice to carry the full portent of the lyrics. There's so much sadness, but hope, something beautiful to crush the melancholy.
          The last movie we ever watched together was The Life Aquatic with Steve Zissou. As usual, I fell asleep. It's where I found that version of the song, and she began to play the Bowie version all the time, especially while doing the dishes. It was not long after we began to see less and less of each other. I can't even remember the last time I saw her face, or heard her voice. Most days I'm okay with this, but today, it makes me sad. Sometimes it makes me heartbroken.

  I've wished a hundred times, a thousand times, to go back. I think, in the end, the thing that hurts the most is the knowledge that even were we given another chance to set things right, I don't think I could ever forget. Forgive, yes, but I could never forget. 

~~

  Then, like the high keening whine of steel on steel, the sound rips through the air, leaving them all stunned.

~~

          That's all I have for you this week. Short, but sincere. Also, I never brought myself to finish that movie.