Fun facts
•This story has seven unpublished parts labeled "Scraps" full of snippets of things from when I changed direction or rearranged pieces.
•Micky is a peach and we fangirl about Emily together.
•I JUST SAW TORI KELLY WOOOO SHE'S AMAZING!
The main thing I'm doing is packing my wardrobe. I don't care about the dishes, furniture, can opener... nothing shared between me and Alex. I still have a lot of books, LOTS of odds and ends from fans, four best arrangement Grammys, some instruments, and just stuff that's going to take us several trips. I'll leave it at Scott's until I get an apartment because he's away and I don't know what else to do, but I'm not staying there. I'll get a hotel and then work something out. Maybe I'll buy a place. I don't want all that hassle right now, though.
Avi doesn't try to convince me to stay. I know, and he can probably see, that I'm keeping my hands busy and organizing everything into the trunk and backseat because it's giving me a superficial sense of control. We work faster than I expected. Picking up on my need to be preoccupied, Avi sings me previews from his next album as we carry all my belongings to our cars. The song he's working on currently is a musical rendition of an old Samuel Taylor Coleridge poem, which Avi tells me the author dreamt, literally dreamt, in his sleep, while high on opiates.
In Xanadu did Kubla Khan
A stately pleasure-dome decree:
Where Alph, the sacred river, ran
Through caverns measureless to man
Mmmmm. It's nice hearing a song that isn't about love or heartbreak. I've come to associate those with music far too much. Avi sings it in a slow, haunting, melodic voice. If I didn't know him better, I'd say he was singing normally, but he's actually near the top of his range until he descends to its richest depths at the next line, Down to a sunless sea.
"I've got chills."
"I really love it, but I'm not sure this song is gonna work out. See, Sam, being high and all, didn't really stick to one meter throughout the poem."
"Is there a pattern at least?"
"It's all over the place. It was kind of careless of me to even start it, honestly. I didn't even think to ask myself if it would work out. I'm in love with it now, though, so I'm kinda stuck."
Is he doing this on purpose? So much for it not being about love and heartbreak! "We can make it work. I'll help. What comes next?" We push through the next few lines, but I can tell it's not coming out right. The poem is gorgeous, and it sounds absolutely incredible when Avi sings it, but it's just beautiful words put to beautiful music. The tune has to change too much to fit the words, and if we want it to sound like a song, we're going to have to change the words past recognition. It won't be as good as the original piece anymore. It's backwards, but I think I'm the poem and Alex is the music. He'll do anything to accommodate me, but to really make it work, I have to cut out pieces of myself. He won't allow it. He thinks I'm better without him.
I hope he finds words to fit his melody, because it's gorgeous. Meanwhile, I'm not meant to have a song. I stand alone. I'm beautiful—that confidence has attenuated surely and steadily in me over many years—but it's in a twisted, different way. I'm not beautiful in the right way for someone else. I'm not compatible with anyone. Well, anyone but Scott, and even that went wrong. Maybe if I pinch myself every time I think of him, I'll be able to stop. The emotional pain hasn't made me forget him, though, so I doubt it.
I hesitate when I come to the bracelet. I've been avoiding it. I guess it's clear enough, though, that as much as Alex wants it, he won't take it. I gave him my love, but he gave it back. I pack it, drive behind Avi to Scott's house to drop off the last of my belongings, and text Jake to let him know. I'll call tomorrow to follow up.
