Track 2: I Wanna Take You Out
Even in the dim purple twilight, the ring on my finger caught the light brilliantly. I held my hand out, feeling its weight and wondering what it truly meant to be a wife. He smiled at me warmly, probably thinking that I was admiring the ring for the meticulous pattern of diamond chips placed around the large center piece diamond, a design he knew I had desired because he listened to everything I said. It was perfect, too perfect. He was too perfect.
"Don't worry about anything, Karen," he said, his voice strong and sure as he put his arm around me, "I'm workin' hard and I wanna take you out tonight."
"I know," I pulled away from him, not able to bear the weight, "I've just got a lot on my mind."
"I understand, love."
We walked hand-in-hand to the bar. Usually, I was waiting tables at this hour, fulfilling every man's request for more. They'd never give me tips, I earned my tips by smiling at them, flirting with them, leading them to believe I wanted them. Nothing is ever given to you. Nothing is free. My father dropped off the weekly shipment of wine to Duke, stopping by our table briefly to talk about me in the third person to my fiancé. They spoke as if I wasn't even there, about how wonderful everything was. I didn't feel wonderful. Others told me the same, people I had known since childhood. "How wonderful" they'd say, and I would reply with some haughty retort about how I was not marriage material. It was true, I was not marriage material, but no one saw through the facade. I picked at my food, nervously waiting for 10 o'clock to roll around.
Then he walked in. Without so much as a glance in my direction he made his way to his normal seat where we had spent many nights chatting about his life before coming to this small town, where I had spent many hours daydreaming about a life with him. What would it be like to be free? To be surrounded by opportunities and people I had never seen before?
"Love, is everything alright? You've barely eaten…"
Without replying, I polished off my third glass of wine, my eyeliner slightly running from the tears that emerged in my eyes. The wine just went down the wrong way I said as he looked over at me from across the bar, a grin on his face. With him, could I be free? Would he take me to all the wonderful places he had told me about? No, he couldn't. No one could. I didn't know it then but those places only existed in my dreams.