A Drunken Preamble
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“I’m Aster Curtail, and today is the first time in 28 months that I have streamed. I want to tell you a story today. I’ve tried to tell this story a few times now over the last 28 months. There is always a nagging feeling in back of my head whenever I start, a conscious voice that reminds me that I don’t tell it for a reason. I call that part of my brain my fight or flight reflex. This story is a part of my own which means it scares me to tell it. Not because of a perfect idealism of what is next but because once I tell the story maybe it will come true. Maybe this rambling clip of my drunken self will make it’s way to her.” He took a breath, his fast-paced opener blurted out in seconds.
 
Aster brought his hand to his mouth and pulled at air as if trying to pull the words from behind closed lips. Proceeded by a tsk he uttered in drunken mumble, “I wish I could see her face if that happened, I’m sure it would be one of shock. One of petrification that would morph to anger then to sadness.” He paused, his eyes locked on the ceiling with a nostalgic smile.
 
He spoke softer now, his harsh husky voice mellowed to a slow velvet, “Lost myself for a moment there.” Pensive he took another pause, hesitant since finishing his introduction. His demeanor a stark contrast to the stream of consciousness that started this video.
 
“You have someone you can hear the laugh of right now? I hear the reminiscence of hers softened by the shrills of our last conversation. The barrage of complaints, we hurled for superficial reasons. That was one of only two fights.” He stood up from his chair and began to pace around the room, his fingers running his leg like it is the keys to the grand piano that sat in the corner. The camera swiveled and tilted to keep him center frame.
 
“Despite that, it supersedes all the memories of laughter. It deafens all the I love yous and I miss you. It drowns out the idle conversations that we had from morning to dusk.” He silently laid out across the hardwood. He didn’t move and the only sound for minutes was the hum of his air conditioner. The room was plain, near empty. Opposite the piano sat a pillow and blanket, and beside it a bluish book with golden writing along the spine.
 
“I wonder do you think the same? Do you think of it at all after all this time? I placate the self-pity by insisting you must. Delude myself into grandiose visions of it working out. Even when I know it is only my inability to forget.” Another pause, “I’m sorry this was meant to be a story, not my self deprecative monologue.” He sat up and glanced about the room for a moment.
 
 
“I’m not great, but hopefully this will suffice for an apology.” He jolt up and moseyed over to the piano.
 
The keys were gently pressed as he played the beginning to “The River Flows in You”. He paused mid chord abruptly interrupted by himself. “I’m running from it.” He sighed.
 
“I’m here to tell the story, not digress like this. Let’s get back on topic.” He stood up from the bench and walked back over to his office chair.
 
“What is your longest call with someone? Mine is 42 hours. I can’t tell you everything we talked about during that time anymore, but I remember why it was so important. It was the essence of us. The first voice you heard in the morning and the last one you heard at night. Started every morning with a good morning bestie and ended the night with a good night bestie. With I love you sprinkled in for added effect. Until the last day that part of us rang true, some days it was the only messages we sent each other. Anyway, the call. I forgot I was in it at first, we played games the night before, and in my grogginess forgot to hang up. So the next morning what came through my speakers is her jubilant.”
 
He paused, and his smile turned to a frown. “Come on superman, say your stupid line.”
 
He took a breath, “Come on superman, say your stupid line.”
 
“I hate that song. But I can sing the entire damn thing because of her.” He inserted before going back on topic.
 
“Up Up and Away, I unmuted.” The smile immediately returned at the memory.
 
“She screamed like a child, instantly insisting I gave her a heart attack. I silently listened to her retorts before interrupting, Good Morning Bestie. I love you.”
 
His face pointed at his keyboard his mouth open and closing without a peep. His eyes glistened under the monitor lights as he admitted, “That is the first time I meant it romantically and not platonically.”
 
What followed was minutes of dead air, broken by a pained chuckle. “Falling for a taken hand, falling for a girl on the other side of the world, falling in love with that to which you can not have. Tale as old as time. However how many people are willing to do it? Would you get on a plane and fly across the world right now? For just thirty more seconds with someone. I would, almost did. Bought the plane ticket and was supposed to fly out the next week, and then I got the text ending it all. A normal person cancels the flight, goes on with their life and never brings it up again. I went on the flight and spent the week traveling the country. I can’t tell you a single thing I did on that trip, beside sit in my room and pretend to everyone else that I was still in the states.”
 
“That was meant to be it, and for 20 months it was. I went about my life and did my best to not reach out to her. Did my best to remove myself from her community to not cause backlash. Then I was at a party with our mutual friends, and it flooded back to me. I contemplated making an unban request. I was stopped my friend though, who reminded me that it was dumb to go back. Regretfully he couldn’t stop me today. I wond-“ A chime blared as an email notification appeared in the corner of his screen. He didn’t say a word but for a moment you could hear the heart beat through the microphone. Then defying all novel logic, his request was denied. “Sometimes we wish life was like a novel. We wonder for just a moment what it would like to be the main character. Then when we try, we put ourselves out there as they would…I’m reminded why I don’t. A novel is only a story, and life is life. I best remember that.” He abruptly ended the stream.
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