Hearts Recycled But Never Saved

Keep cool, keep cool. My blood pressure was high and pumped redundantly much blood around in my head.
As fast as I saw Jimmy's blood pour down his cheeks, I got the panic feeling again.
What could I do? Scream for help?
I couldn't utter one single word. Supposedly, I had lost my voice in the shock.
I can't remember anything else than fear that night after Jimmy fell.
Feeling like dying. Like getting strangled.

I woke up in a snatch, sitting.

"Jimmy", I whispered immediately.

How could I have fainted? He could have died! He was sick, all alone and lying on a lawn! Luckily, Jimmy was still at the same place.
I checked his pulse and could breathe freely again. The shock let go and the tears of anxiety started pouring down my face. I panted. He was alive!
I shook his heavy body, yelling his name.
Slowly, those deep brown eyes opened. He mumbled something.
I collapsed down beside him, still crying.

"Don't cry", his hoarse voice tried to consule me. He forced himself to sit up. "What the hell happened?" Carefully, he put his arm around me.

I bit my lip. What I needed right now was not to re-etablish the night before.
As staring into the ash of what had been our fire place, I remembered the burned marshmallows. Feeling Jimmy's smell, I remembered the cigarettes and the dope. And seeing his smooth, friendly eyes in their ordinary state, I remembered how lost they had looked last night.
I made the choice to not tell him what he had been up to. He wasn't himself as fast as the Underbelly was around.
I was just going to tell a lie, when I saw how Jimmy's expression collapsed.

"Oh holy shit... I'm sorry, hell, it all comes back now..."

I didn't reply to his words. I didn't share the kiss he gave with him.

"Just don't touch me." I turned my face away. That cut off the atmosphere.

"Honestly--" Jimmy's hand searched for my shoulder.

"No. I don't wanna talk to you, Jimmy." I faced him with a tear running down my cheek. "Leave me alone."

But making Jimmy's decision for him is, and has always been, impossible.

"I want to ask you something." I heard how he backed up. Since he got no reply, he just continued. "Were you actually leaving last night?"

I pinched my eyes together, had a deep sigh and contemplated my answer.

"Why would you be so damn afraid of that?"

Jimmy looked troubled and pulled his fingers through his already messy hair.

"Because I've seen this before", he mumbled.

"Would I leave you? Don't you trust me?" I turned my head to him once again.

"I do, I do," Jimmy assured. "But there's just the point that... that I hardly trust anyone."

I gasped irritatedly.

"I thought you knew." Tears burned my eyes, and I did my best to fight them.

"I knew what?"

"I thought you knew that I love you, Jimmy."

Mixing boredom, half broken hearts, two tragic life stories, silence, emptiness and lack of words is dangerous. Really dangerous.
We tried, so trust me.
I wanted to cry, to scream, to put my anger somewhere else, I wanted to... die. But I didn't want to leave Jimmy.
Finally, there was a chemistry. But it wasn't working properly.

I had a look at Jimmy. He sat five metres from me, writing something. He looked concentrated, with his tongue sticking out in the corner of the mouth.

"What's that?" I asked after four hours of silence.

Jimmy looked surprised. He blushed slightly.

"It's a song." As I walked closer, he turned the book upside-down. "Woah, woah, noo--" he said as I got closer.

"Can't I see it?" I activated my puppy dog eyes.

"It's not finished. I'm not sure you'd like it..." He became silent.

"Come on." I grabbed the book and took it out of his clutch. Jimmy didn't complain.

She's an extraordinary girl, in an ordinary world, and she can't seem to get away
He lacks the courage in his mind, like a child left behind, like a pet left in the rain.

"It's beautiful. Just like the last one", I mumbled. I browsed back a few pages. The notebook was stuffed with memories and monuments. "Can I borrow this?" I asked.

"Then, can I ask why?" Jimmy smirked gorgeously, as usual. I hate to say it, but he was as most beautiful when he smirked.

I shrugged my shoulders and gave him the book back.

"Why not? Look, I really want to read it."

Maybe it could tell why things turned out they way they did.

It was all a cry for help; an endless waiting for at least a tiny glimpse of satisfaction.
A deep hole full of anxiety, panic and horror. A hole where you every day sink lower to get buried. Alive.
That was Jimmy's background. Or, what kind of 'ground' is that to stand on? Fighting for your each breath, fighting for only keeping your balance.

"Do you remember when you asked about my lifestory?" Jimmy asked, who still hadn't opened the book. I nodded. "This book is my lifestory. This contains what I've seen in my life."

"Does that mean I can't read it?" I felt the disappointment sting in my chest.

"Of course not, I was just going to say that... you're the only one who I will allow to hear this story. You're the only one with access. I give only you entrance to my story."

I smiled.

"Thanks."

"Right." Jimmy finally opened the book on the first page. "When I was a little kid, I got introduced to drugs quickly. It started with that mom and Brad, who always left for romantic dinners and shit-" Jimmy cut himself off. "This is them by the way." He pointed to a picture of a couple in their fourties. "Anyway, Brad always told mom that she should get rid off me as soon as possible. They gave me ritalin and soda pop and left me in front of the TV, almost every night."

I gazed at him.

"No, that's horrible. Such morons!"

Jimmy grinned, seemingly indifferent.

"What can we do about it? Done is done." He pulled his fingers through the messy, dark hair. "It was my first romance there. Falling in love with alcohol, marijuana and cocaine. I fell into the right social circles, you know?"

Jimmy told me all that had happened, from the cradle to the point he was at in his life right now. As a twelve-year-old, he took his first ritalin overdose. After that, he stopped to care. Nothing was less or more important, he would just do whatever fitted him for the moment. He spent more and more of his time outside, to get out from his private womb in the livingroom, where he met all these new friends and girls. He had something that they wanted more of, and Jimmy's response was adding on more and more, and this made him notoriously famous.

"Every night, we went to the parking lot of 7-11. I know lots of people who went there justcause they knew I was going. I could spend the whole night there. Drinking, taking drugs, making out with random girls, graffiti-painting the bathroom stalls of 7-11, stealing from them, opening their packs and pouring out the contents, I got into fights all the time... I've done quite a lot of dumb things, Whatsername. I'm a fucking idiot."

"Jimmy, you're not. It's just... lack of self-control."

"My personality is split, which does make me a fucking idiot. That's it. Don't try to find any other reasons."

I nodded, trying to seem understanding, but probably only seeming like a dumbass.

"I ate every pill I saw. I fucked every girl in my way, they told me they loved me, they wanted more and more, and suddenly, they were gone! I was so sick of hearing those three words, they meant nothing to me. And I fist fighted guys who I found challenging of my position. I drank all the booze I came over. I smoked every cigarette people offered me. I am a fucking idiot."

"I wouldn't have stayed if I thought you were a fucking idiot", I claimed and attempted to make him look at me. But he didn't.

"April 2", Jimmy groaned and opened up another page in the book. "Hell. I had just run away. It was so much bigger than Jingletown. I thought that maybe I had more abilities here. I wouldn't have to meet the same old people over and over again. Maybe I could find new social circles here. But the first thing that struck me, was loneliness. I've never been lonelier. I turned into this, I'm such a pile of shit. But it's the only way for me to survive. This is how I'm supposed to be."

"Boulevard of Broken Dreams. That's a deep title", I said as reading the headline of the page.

Jimmy smiled with one corner of the mouth. He browsed again.

"Here. Easter Sunday. I'll always fucking hate Easter Sunday."

Jesus of Suburbia is a lie. And screaming, Are we, we are the waiting, I read.

"Jesus of Suburbia died. So you became St. Jimmy. A resurrection. And you got the Underbelly", I mumbled to myself. He split himself up.

Three days later.

"It's late", Jimmy stated and shivered. We sat in a narrow lane, the night was freezing cold, and I was convinced that going to sleep would kill me.

"And I'm bored", I kept whine. "Have you got any cigarettes, dumbass?"

Jimmy started searching in his pockets, fishing up two crumpled joints.

"You smoke these?" he asked, putting one to his lips.

I received the other one. No.

"Lighter?" I said instead of answering him.

Jimmy handed over the small, bright green lighter. I caught it and lit the joint.

"Marijuana, huh?" I coughed, already feeling dizzy. It had been ages. Why did I do this?
Jimmy nodded.

"Keep cool, they're not dangerous."

I gave him a meaning glance. Not dangerous? Yeah, obviously.

"Oh, alright then! They are dangerous", Jimmy corrected with a little sneer. "See, are you tempted now?" He puffed on me with his elbow.

"Give me one good reason to smoke it then", I laughed.

Jimmy shrugged his shoulders.

"It's good." He inhaled.

I couldn't escape sharing a kiss with him.
I crawled up closer to him, and he put his arms around me to keep us warm. We sat there, shivering four hours.

As doing joint after joint, the old sweet feeling overwhelmed me again. I had missed it, so much. I felt like losing everything, giving life a big middle finger, giving it all up. I didn't really care what the side-affects of this short moment of satisfaction would be. All I remember that happened meanwhile was falling asleep to Jimmy's persistent lullaby versions of all songs he had ever known.