A Million Words To Say
“Love cannot save you from your own fate.”
― Jim Morrison
To: Taylorhanson@hanson.net
From: adelaide.quinn@cameron.edu
Subject: news
Well darling, looks like I’ll be in Tulsa tomorrow. Hopefully we’ll get to see each other, but I really don’t know what’s going to happen when I get in. I’ve gotten some rather disconcerting news about my father, his whore, and his recent arrest that may or may not have something to do with the whore. So I don’t know what things will be like at home, but I definitely want to see you. I’m not saying I need a shoulder to cry on, but I could use some company… and your company is about the best I can think of.
To: adelaide.quinn@cameron.edu
From: Taylorhanson@hanson.net
Subject: Re: news
Lunch tomorrow, then? I’m going to try to actually sleep during the night, and live during the daylight hours tomorrow. We can dine at some place with a bar (El Guapo’s, if it’s up to me) and if necessary, drink early in the afternoon. Sitting around a bar only differs from sitting around in my house being that the internet is replaced with booze… which I think constitutes an equal trade.
My number is in your posession and I have my phone on.
To: Taylorhanson@hanson.net
From: adelaide.quinn@cameron.edu
Subject: Re: Re: news
I’ve got a long drive ahead of me, so an early dinner (I’m thinking 3 or 4) would work better for me. That’s still definitely daylight hours, and it doesn’t require me to be awake before the sun rises. And sorry darling, but not even you are enough for me to wake up that early, haha
To: adelaide.quinn@cameron.edu
From: Taylorhanson@hanson.net
Subject: Re: Re: Re: news
That works for me. You’ll be tired from the drive. We might watch some tv in between times. Haha
To: Taylorhanson@hanson.net
From: adelaide.quinn@cameron.edu
Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: news
Sounds fantastic. Not sure how long the drive will actually take, since I’m coming from farther away. I’ll call you before I get there? El Guapo’s works for me.
I had barely settled in at Mom’s for the weekend when I got the phone call. It was a bail bonding company, asking me to verify certain details about my dad so that they could post his bail. I did, but they couldn’t answer my questions (such as why he was in jail) and only assured me they would call back later.
They didn’t, and by Sunday, I was getting restless. My classes didn’t start back until fairly late on Tuesday, so I decided to drive to Tulsa Monday and see what I could find out at the courthouse. Of course, I had other reasons for going to Tulsa, too. I wanted to see Taylor, and I didn’t care how pathetic that made me, especially in light of his revelation that he really wasn’t ready to date. I had no doubt that it was just a matter of time. He had only just gotten out of the hospital, after all.
I wanted to see him as much as possible before he had to leave Tulsa, but of course, my classes got in the way of that. There would only be a small window, I feared, where neither of us had anything to do and were free to go out when we wanted. A short lunch date wasn’t ideal, but it was better than nothing.
As we sat across from each other at the table in El Guapo’s, I tried to catalog the ways he seemed to have changed in the few short weeks since I’d seen him. Even in that little amount of time, he seemed to be a tiny bit closer to his old self. No, that wasn’t really true. But the familiar pink tinge had returned to his cheeks, even if the rest of him was still deathly pale, and he had the tiniest hint of white blonde eyebrows. He seemed a little more alive, too.
“So at least I can eat in restaurants like this now,” Taylor said, even though he’d only made it halfway through his first taco. “Pretty soon, I’ll be allowed to have fast food again. After that, we can really start promoting this album. It’s hard to get people to listen when all you can do is call in to radio stations, you know? We need people to see us.”
I nodded along as he rambled, but I couldn’t imagine it. I couldn’t imagine how he could be so excited about being out in the public again. He still wore that red beanie, and I had no doubt there was little more than peach fuzz beneath it. Would he let the public see that? For some reason, it made me jealous. That felt like a part of him that should only be for me; the world shouldn’t see all of Taylor, frail and vulnerable as he was. That was mine. He was mine.
But he wasn’t. I knew he wasn’t, at least not yet.
After lunch, Taylor convinced me to follow him back to his house. I knew I needed to get to the courthouse before it got very late, but it wasn’t like Dad was going anywhere. He would still be there, even if I did spend a little more time with Taylor than I’d planned. Dad wasn’t expecting me, of course; even though I didn’t expect an answer, I’d called both his cell phone and the house phone several times during the drive to Tulsa, but there had been no answer at either number. It still felt like something of a bad idea, but I followed Taylor back to his house anyway, driving further and further away from the jail where I assumed my dad was still locked up.
Taylor wasted no time escorting me right into his bedroom. He flipped on the television and put in a dvd while I tried to get comfortable on his bed. Something about being alone with him again just felt awkward. I could already tell that he was expecting sex. It wasn’t that I didn’t want it, but I knew I couldn’t stay long.
Still, when Taylor crawled across the bed and laid down next to me, I couldn’t resist relaxing into his arms and returning his kisses. For a moment, I wondered if whatever spell came over us a month before had been broken, but it hadn’t. His kisses felt exactly the same, filled me with exactly the same feeling of having come home, as they had the first time.
We laid together for a long time, just kissing and occasionally watching the movie but not enough to really follow the plot. It was only when Taylor’s hand began to creep under my shirt that I pulled back.
“Is something wrong?” He asked.
I shook my head. “No, it’s just… well, what time is it? I really need to go check on Dad…”
Despite being horribly embarrassed by it, I had told Taylor the whole sordid story over dinner. It was far less interesting than his plans for the upcoming tour, but he listened like he really cared. I supposed he did, but he was the sort of person who’s every word and reaction was obviously calculated to get the exact response he wanted; it was just part of the fame thing, I supposed.
“You’ve only been here an hour,” Taylor replied.
“That’s probably long enough…” I bit my lip and watched his face for any sign of disappointment. He hid it well, but I thought I could still see it. Truthfully, I was disappointed that I couldn’t stay longer, too, but I thought this was kind of a good thing. It would give us something to long for, and give me some tiny semblance of dignity.
“Let me walk you out, then,” Taylor finally replied, grabbing his beanie from where he’d hung it on his bedpost. Even though we were only walking outside on his own property, he couldn’t go without it. It was such a crutch to him, I could see, and I worried for him when he was in front of the cameras again.
He didn’t hold my hand or even walk that closely to me as we made our way out to the driveway where I’d parked. April in Oklahoma was warm, but I couldn’t help noticing the way Taylor seemed tense, as though he was bracing to keep out the cold. I supposed the loss of weight and body hair probably meant that even in the fairly comfortable spring weather, he was cold. I wanted to wrap him up in my arms and share my warmth with him, but I didn’t.
He came to an awkward stop beside my car and turned back to face me. “You know, it’s probably just as well that you can’t stay. I kind of have another date… and I’m running a little bit late for it.”
I blinked at him, trying to process his words. Another date? Of course, I knew he was dating. I knew it wasn’t only me. I wasn’t that naïve, especially not after the emails Taylor and I had exchanged. Somehow I just didn’t expect him to double book himself like that.
“I’d already made plans with her,” he continued. “It’s just, you know, I had to squeeze you in when I got your email. You needed me.”
I knew he thought that explained everything and it made it better, but it really didn’t. Maybe it should have.
“Well, I won’t keep you from it,” I replied with what I hoped was a nonchalent, flirty smile. It couldn’t have been farther from how I actually felt. “I’d call and let you know I got home safely, but I wouldn’t want to interrupt…”
Taylor chuckled in response to that and it made me feel sick.
He gave me a quick kiss goodbye, far too chaste for everything we’d said and done up to that point, and I got in my car to leave. As I drove back up the road to downtown Tulsa, I felt more and more sick. It wasn’t just because of Taylor, though.
The road was deserted enough that I felt comfortable pulling out my cell phone. On a whim, even though I didn’t expect an answer, I dialed my dad’s number. The line rang and rang, but finally it clicked over and he answered.
“Hello?”
“Hey,” I said, cradling the phone carefully between my ear and shoulder, and trying to focus on the road. “I was just, umm, I got the call from the bail bonding… but I guess you got bailed out?”
“Your uncle got me. You didn’t need to come.”
“Well, I never heard back from them and I couldn’t get in touch with you, so…”
“It’s fine. Everything’s okay.”
“I’ll be home in a few minutes, then,” I said.
We hung up without saying goodbye, because my dad never said goodbye on the phone. He wasn’t one of those people who didn’t believe in goodbyes; he just had no manners and never, not even once in his life, remembered that he was supposed to say it before he hung up.
I flipped my phone shut and tossed it in the general direction of the passenger seat, not really caring where it landed or if it broke. Dad was wrong. Nothing was okay.
To: Taylorhanson@hanson.net
From: adelaide.quinn@cameron.edu
Subject: Checking in
Told you I wouldn’t call and interrupt your date, lol. Surprisingly, I got a call through to dad on the way back and he was home. He was very short with his replies, but he said everything was okay. So I’m here now and I guess dad is asleep. Hopefully I’ll get his side of the story tomorrow before I go back to school. I wish I had a little more time here, because I would like to see you again, but… classes.
To: adelaide.quinn@cameron.edu
From: Taylorhanson@hanson.net
Subject: Re: Checking in
do you want to know the awful truth?
I didn’t go on another date tonight. I stood in the parking lot and talked to an old friend. Then I drove home and ended up taking a rain check. She offered it, so I took it. I do feel like crap about it, but not too much.
It’s “karma”, I guess, haha, but as of right now I’m spending the night alone.
To: Taylorhanson@hanson.net
From: adelaide.quinn@cameron.edu
Subject: Re: Re: Checking in
Wow, I kinda feel like a bitch for joking about your other date now. Except I already know I’m a bitch. It’s kind of redundant.
Sorry you feel like crap, though. I am such a bitch. But that is one of my endearing qualities, right?
To: adelaide.quinn@cameron.edu
From: Taylorhanson@hanson.net
Subject: Re: Re: Re: Checking in
Hey now, I’m not about to let some tiny whiny wench get in the way of my own self-loathing.
Now back the wah-wah wagon up and take a listen:
“I’m the guy who set himself up to go out with two girlies on the same day knowing it would probably end up overlapping.”
I don’t do this sort of thing all the time, but today I did, so if I’m going to shoot myself in the foot the least I can do is feel it sting and watch it bleed.
p.s. Disregard -all- of that. I’m in a strange mood. Possibly too many pain pills.
p.p.s. Seriously though, don’t feel bad. I am a bastard that you probably aren’t sure where things are going with or even if they’re going. I’m not sure either. But at least I have a conscience about it and you know I don’t burn bridges from my end. Even if I have to put up with shitty people like my ex.
To: Taylorhanson@hanson.net
From: adelaide.quinn@cameron.edu
Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Checking in
I’m a “tiny whiny wench?” Yeah… guess that sounds about right, haha.
In regards to the post-post-script: yep, that sounds about right. And you know I despise uncertainty, but I’m prepared to deal with it. I can’t help feeling a little bad, though, because I’m afraid my offhand comment got misinterpreted or something.
To: adelaide.quinn@cameron.edu
From: Taylorhanson@hanson.net
Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Checking in
It didn’t. Believe me, with the large portion of my mind devoted to ethical thinking, I was already at war with myself when I first got dressed today in preparation to see you.
The only thing I could ever muster up in defense of my own morality was that you said… “I’m not implying that I need to cry on your shoulder, but it helps to have someone to talk to and talking to you is interesting,” and I’m paraphrasing there.
Though, that wouldn’t stand up in my own court of ethics, and I hardly expect it to stand up in yours.
So, unable to avoid cognitive dissonance I choose to ignore it until the time comes that I don’t feel I did any wrong.
That usually comes to me after staying up to six in the morning. Egad… I’ve just discovered the cause of my insomnia. A twisted form of penance. Lol
To: Taylorhanson@hanson.net
From: adelaide.quinn@cameron.edu
Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Checking in
Ethics aren’t my strong point. Neither is morality. I’m not going to say that I think you did anything wrong. Believe me, I’m not the person to make that kind of judgment. You might call me a hedonist, even. I’m generally of the idea that you ought to do what feels right so long as you aren’t harming anyone else.
Is that the issue? Exactly what is it that you seem to think you’ve done that’s so ethically/morally wrong?
To: adelaide.quinn@cameron.edu
From: Taylorhanson@hanson.net
Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Checking in
I don’t think it’s actually the traditional “guilt-based” religion that tells me to think of myself as unworthy or unrighteous and always falling short of the glory of God.
It’s not.
I just use that to cite and confirm the fact that I already previously judged myself as inferior.
It’s certainly a minority complex, I know. I’ve known that since I first heard the term at age *singledigithere*
I should probably examine why I like the kind of people I like, to find the root of my personal perfectionism. Even though I judge myself harshly… I don’t see anything wrong with that system, haha. So I’ve never really thought about what horrible sins I might have committed. I generally am aware of a ‘wrong’ choice when it first occurs to me.
I’m just talking to talk, now. Lol
To: adelaide.quinn@cameron.edu
From: Taylorhanson@hanson.net
Subject: (no subject)
Wud up?
To: Taylorhanson@hanson.net
From: adelaide.quinn@cameron.edu
Subject: Re: (no subject)
Not much. The cable’s been out on campus all day and I’ve been downloading music like a madwoman. Finding old cds I had forgotten how much I loved. How have I gone this long without listening to Travis, for example?
And I’m off to eat dinner in a few.
To: adelaide.quinn@cameron.edu
From: Taylorhanson@hanson.net
Subject: Re: Re: (no subject)
I’m bored to death… tired. My chest has been hurting since yesterday when I had some odd burger king, haha. I’ve realized that I’m leaving in just a few days to promote the album. I’m not sure who convinced me I was ready to face the world again, medically or mentally.
How am I possibly going to entertain people right now? I’m not just talking musically. We’re barely even playing any acoustic shows right now, for health reasons. But even at the best of times, I don’t think I’m nearly as interesting as everyone else seems to. Or as funny.
I sleep almost all day, wake up and am tired the rest of the day, but I can’t get to sleep even with ambien to help, until I literally just pass out as the sun rises.
To: Taylorhanson@hanson.net
From: adelaide.quinn@cameron.edu
Subject: Re: Re: Re: (no subject)
Aww, I hope you feel better. Chest pains are not good.
I don’t think the entertainment and hilariousity will be a problem. It’s kind of like how you think I’m pretty no matter what I say. You’re fantastically funny and entertaining and you can just forget about arguing with me on that.
I used to be like that, when it comes to sleep. Well I never took ambien. Let’s just say… I self-medicated. Anyway, that was no way to get through college. It nearly ruined my freshman year.
To: adelaide.quinn@cameron.edu
From: Taylorhanson@hanson.net
Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: (no subject)
Sleep-wise, I usually lap myself. Manage a 24 hour transition of waking time. I can’t pull it off right now.
Honestly… I’m worried that my body is literally going to start failing. I’m no longer worried that there’s a disease or a condition or anything. I admitted it two nights ago, and surprisingly found myself tearing up as I said it, which rarely happens to me.
Medication, energy supplements, hell, my adrenal glands haven’t been functioning right for months, explaining my fatigue. I have my philosophy of being happy with however well I do in a situation, but always trying to constantly improve… but now I’m afraid that my limits are lower than someone who has a body that hasn’t been scarred from the inside out. Just to do normal things, the way normal people do, I have to down an energy drink or two just to feel awake.
This really turned into a pity party. I didn’t mean for it to.
p.s. I know I’m fantastic, haha… thanks for saying so anyways. Now you know that it takes a whole hell of a lot more effort on my part to seem that way. Lol
New album
Posted by TaylorHanson
Well, I hope all of you went out Tuesday and bought your copy (or two or three) of Underneath. We’re really excited to finally have this one out there where you can buy it and listen to it and hopefully fall in love with it.
I know it’s been a long time. For those of you who didn’t buy the acoustic EP or see us on that tour, it’s been even longer. This album has been a long time coming, and no one knows that better than I do. In the next few weeks, we’re going to get back out there again and start promoting and getting the music out there not just for you guys, our loyal fans, but for the world. I hope you all understand that, at least at first, I’ll have to take things a little slowly, but even something like cancer can’t slow me down that much.
Staring at a million city lights
But it’s still Penny and I all alone beneath the sky
Feel the wind brushing slowly by
If I could soar I’d try to take these wings and fly
Away to where the leaves turn red
But no matter where I am instead
Singing along to feeling alright
We’re making it by in the pink moonlight
It’s always Penny and me tonight