Give Me Liberty
Baby: I am changed.
I am new. I am unburdened. I have connected with your world. I am free. And I have such a terrible love for you. I find myself consumed, utterly consumed, with emotion at this situation. I want to devastate everything, everyone in my way to get you. It’s not that I need you–this is not a compulsion. No: I want you. I want this. I choose this craving. I like feeling selfish and crazed. I am awake. I don’t want to wait.
When I concentrate on your visage, all worries cease–worries of a predictable life, and the weight of following a story already written and full of cliche. You are everything right with my life. Well, everything right with the right parts of my life. Who has time for right when dealing with this legacy and this burden, not to mention water bills and converting rooms and choosing whether to clean the chimney of the crappy old house that was the only gift from Mom–
You are what’s right. How you must be in the night, so imperfect, so flawed, so unbelievably human. I am changed when I open myself to this. I lose myself on the train and at work for seeming hours, just to imagine the way your skin must feel, how it would react to my clumsy touch. I want this more than I want the spring.
I can’t be sorry about this, this most perfectly human thing. I can no longer concentrate–it must be the obsession taking over my faculties–and I can’t apologize for that. Such colors in the dark, such unexpected levity. Visions from my past. Thoughts re-remembered and falsities exposed. The illusion of sadness. The acknowledgement of what actually was good, what mattered. No–I don’t want that now. This isn’t poetic or fair. I want you, only you.
From my battleground, from this hell, I seek peace. Stop the other thoughts. I drift, I float, I have changed, really I have. I want to change. I am yours. Please don’t leave me here.
*********
[from The Boston Globe, April 3, 2010]
Timothy E. Latimer, 28, of Lynn, died in his home Thursday of apparent carbon monoxide poisoning. Mr. Latimer was an avid reader and fan of movies. He worked in the accounts receivable department for an trucking company in South Boston. His mother, Maude Latimer (O’Halloran), gained notoriety in the North Shore as a suspect in the death of her husband, Edward Latimer, in 1995, but she was acquitted when his death was ruled an accident. She died in her home in 2000.
Mr. Latimer is survived by his wife, Kathleen, who is expecting their first child.
About jasonleary
Uh…..wow.
This rocks. I enjoyed it so much I read it twice.
whoa…deep and heavy. like a frosty, tall glass of paper city winter palace wee heavy.
Damn good stuff, Jason, very painful. Did you know them?
It's just fiction, my friend. Thanks for the feedback.
Even the obit?
Of course!
That's one damn fine obit! And to think I thought it was the source of your inspiration!
yeah, leary. you're hired. i need you to write my obit. (i like to have it ready, you know, just in case).
i often like "feeling selfish and crazed" myself… lets hope it ends better than this poor fool.
this has so many good bits of drama, in a very subtle, secretive, leary kind of way. par excellence! (whatever that means)
crazy.
great work.
also, there's a job posting at the vermont state newspaper for an obit writer. if you're looking…
Holy crap. In a good way.
Wow. If you had sold this as nonfiction, I'd have bought it. Nice.