I had watched the same episode of 'Grey's Anatomy' three times before I finally threw the remote down in absolute boredom. Looking around suddenly, I sighed as I looked over at the guitar that Tommy had laid on the floor beside me. I couldn't sing, but I couldn't see why I couldn't write so I picked up a piece of paper and started scribbling furiously—completing the song that I had started right before the fire.
My rainbow at the end of the storm
My triumph at the end of the day
My path strays from the offered norm
And still I look to him to guide my way
Chorus:
I fight an inner battle with self-control
A weak, futile attempt at saving my soul
But it wriggles its way out of my grasp
And into the fray, I find myself lapse.
Where is my hero, my confidante, my knight
Riding in on his charger, like a sexy James Dean
Fresh from the emotional fight
With those steamy glances, oh what do they mean?
So frustrated, throwing glass against the wall
Kicking out at helpless objects, at a stretchless void
Tripping over the destruction to find myself fall
With nothing to hold onto, my eternal struggle, like philosophies of Freud
Chorus:
I fight an inner battle with self-control
A weak, futile attempt at saving my soul
But it wriggles its way out of my grasp
And into the fray, I find myself lapse.
The main questions who, what, where, and why
Keep invading my thoughts like alien life forms
Mutating themselves into my brain, like an irritating fly
Buzzing incessantly until I fight to conform
What is this madness that overwhelms my heart
I feel weak and helpless, like a scared victim in a horror flick
Each tendril of my being feels like its being torn apart
And yet, I fight the good fight trying to be witty, to be strong and quick
Chorus:
I fight an inner battle with self-control
A weak, futile attempt at saving my soul
But it wriggles its way out of my grasp
And into the fray, I find myself lapse.
I wrote hurriedly before looking over the finished product critically—almost banging my head against the side of the couch when I realized just how frustrated I sounded in the lyrics. I felt like I needed a trip to bedlam but without the shock treatments, or maybe with them. Who knows? A bang at the door made me look up cautiously—stuffing the notebook under the couch quickly—my feelings too fresh to be exposed. I tried calling out for whoever it was to 'come in' until I realized that I couldn't speak, and I mumbled to myself irritably as I stood up and made my way slowly over to the door—pulling it open with a continuous scowl plastered across my features. My mouth dropped open in an 'oh this is going to be so much fun' expression as I slammed the door closed again ceremoniously.
"I always thought you looked incredibly sexy in men's clothing, Jude Harrison." Spied said sardonically as he pushed the door open again with a haughty look on his face before looking over his shoulder in amusement at Jamie Andrews.
"She's a riot in the a.m." Jamie said with a chuckle, and I moaned at the pathetic rejoinder. Why me? I scurried back over to the sofa and my security net of blankets and pillows before scribbling something on my "I can't speak" tablet and handing it to them with quirked brows. 'Who sent you?' it read, and they both laughed at the unspoken frustration.
"Sadie." They said in unison as I rolled my eyes skyward. I should have known. I was starting to think I had just as many exes as Tommy with the exception that I had not swapped as many bodily fluids with them other than saliva. Bars of 'Joy to the world' was suddenly playing through my head as I picked up the pillow and placed it squarely over my face.
"How about a game of strip poker?" Spied asked suddenly, and I moaned again as I flipped over and scurried underneath the blanket. This wasn't happening. All I needed now was to have that 'sitting in the middle of the room naked dream' come to realization as another knock at the door had me quivering underneath Tom's satin comforter. I heard one of the boys open the door, and the voice that reverberated throughout the room sounded just a tid bit too sunny as Portia called out that she had viddles for the sick soul. I cringed. Oh, this was so a Jerry Springer Show waiting to happen.