Needle in the Hay

“Needle in the Hay” - Elliot Smith (Elliot Smith - 1995)

She just saw him. Just now. Damn. It might all be ending.

Safe now. In the closet. A prisoner in his own apartment. Some idiot kid with no hope for love. As long as he can remember. As much as he expects. It would be nice to be able to look back. Like most do. Contemplate a time when things were different. But maybe that would be more painful.

He never thought it would come to this. All those nights of voyeuristic leniency. Warm, fuzzy happiness. That’s what he’d come to expect. That was probably a mistake too. Too good to be true. Her. There behind the shades. Parted. Always. Across the way. It was stupid to fantasize. Was it? But it was so easy. And natural. And peaceful. And maybe he could meet her one day. Maybe he could be himself. For once. Maybe she would want to spend time with him. Go on a date. Find out what he’s all about. What are the chances? But there were chances. There always were. Right?

It was dark in there. And he was hungry. And sick. He really thought he was going to be sick now. It wasn’t embarrassment. What could she know anyway? Maybe she didn’t even see him. He didn’t even do anything. She wanted to be seen. She did. If HE hadn’t shown up.

The night doesn’t have to end in there. There is still time. He could catch the bus. Down to L’amours. Walk, walk, walk. 4 more blocks. He didn’t need her anymore. Thinking back 2 minutes ago. Her hand on his arm. Her dress. Shoulder. His lips on her…stop. Why this torture? Why dwell on this. On her. On him. God. It’s over. The gig is up. Life goes on.

He’s buried under his mother’s clothes. Why is it so damp in there? So damp and dark? This is insane. He wants to come out. Out of the closet. Maybe the bus is still running. Why does she haunt him. Her face burns. He wants her to leave him alone. Finally. To leave his life. It’s too much responsibility. This relationship is wearing him thin. He needs to go over there and tell her. Right now. While HE is there. HE should know too. Maybe that could ease his pain. Maybe this would be good for everyone.

He peeks through the cracks. Through the shades. They are closed. He’s sure of everything now. Everything that has happened these past 14 months. Everything that has happened these past 30 minutes. Everything that is yet to happen. His brilliant future. The hope of the next 10 minutes. That’s okay if they don’t want to talk about it. They don’t have to talk about anything. Ever again.

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