NOVEMBER 1917
There's glitter on the floor after the party
Girls carrying their shoes down in the lobby
Candle wax and Polaroids on the hardwood floor
You and me from the night before
I watch the sun crack through the grey morning clouds. I've always loved the sun, but it's never looked so unwelcoming. I can see the officers loading their belongings into the many ugly trucks parked outside the house.
One officer stands out amongst the rest. Jay is half a foot taller than anyone else, and even from the upstairs window I can see his deep blue eyes shine like the August stars from the night we first met.
He catches sight of me and holds my gaze. He looks sad, and I know my face will be showing an exact reflection of his. How can I bear to watch him drive away, not knowing if I'll ever see him. I push away the thought as quickly as it came to mind. I can't think it. That one thought penetrates my soul like a knife. He will come home. He is like the sun to me. And the sun always rises.
Don't read the last page
But I stay when you're lost and I'm scared and you're turning away
I want your midnights
But I'll be cleaning up bottles with you on New Year's Day
They are ready to set off by noon. November has never felt so cold. Jay moves towards me and I back away, shaking my head, as tears begin to stream down my face. He immediately gathers me into his arms. "Daisy, darling." he moves strands of my hair from my face. "I will come home to you, I promise I will." But his voice is heavy. I fall into him and cry harder.
"But how am I to bear the months until then. I will be there at the window counting the snowflakes until I run mad!" I promise.
"I'll love you even if you're mad." he whispers. He kisses me one last time, delicately, as if he is afraid I might break like a china doll, a glass girl. Then he is gone. Seated in one of the ugly trucks disappearing from sight, and with him, the last shreds of summer, disappearing like geese into the south.
"Come home." I whisper.
Hold on to the memories, they will hold on to you
And I will hold on to you
Please don't ever become a stranger whose laugh I could recognize anywhere.
The days that follow are as bleak as my heart. Autumn disappeared in flurry of amber leaves. I stared at my half empty suitcase. I had determined last night that I would catch the last train on the day to New York, where I could catch Jay before he sailed and say goodbye again. Goodbye's painful but beautiful, like poetry. And one doesn't stop reading poetry just because it makes one feel. That's how I feel about Jay.
But my mother had arrived unexpectedly. No doubt the rumours about her perfect doll of a daughter and a penniless officer had reached Chicago. She came into my room as I was throwing my last few dancing dresses into the case, and like that, my trip was cancelled.
So all I can do now is look up at the moon, and know Jay is looking at the same moon, and in a way, I'm with him as he sails to Europe. I'll always be with him, if he'll have me.
Hold on to the memories, they will hold on to you
And I will hold on to you
Please don't ever become a stranger whose laugh I could recognize anywhere