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DESTROY THE EVIDENCE READERS SPOTLIGHT by Cunning Linguist

Well, the “Shades of Grey” are slowly turning back to something that resembles one of those old TV’s that sat on the floor. You know the one, your grandma had one when you were a kid. The colour really sucked and you could barely see the numbers on the backs of the hockey players during the Stanley Cup finals – but it was colour none the less and it was also back when the Oilers never lost. Ah – those were the days. And shit, colour beats black and white any day – and it most definitely beats out the “Shades of Grey” that I’ve been slugging through for the last while.

Have you ever been sitting around listening to a song on the radio, or a CD that you have owned for the longest of time. You’ve listened to it hundreds of times but for some reason today you are really listening. That happened to me a couple of weeks ago. There I was listening to a song that I’ve likely heard 100 times before; when suddenly I heard a line that I’d never heard before. I can’t remember the exact lyric but it went something like this:

“You have to destroy all of the evidence before you can move on”

Needless to say – that hit me like a truck. You see, for those of you who didn’t figure it out from the last article I wrote – I’ve been having some major girl problems. I know you are probably sitting there thinking “aww you poor little fucker – move on and stop complaining”. If you’re not I ask you – why the hell not – I’ve been thinking that for two months! If I remember correctly I finished my last article with a line that went something like “stop focusing on others and put the focus on yourself”. Well up until a couple of weeks ago I had been doing just f’n super at finally taking my own good advice. I’d been working hard in school, spending lots of time with my friends and most importantly I’d been working hard in the gym and the results were showing.

Then one night I found myself in the hospital with needles in my arm and all kinds of wires and blood pressure monitors connected to me. Looking back – it was nothing to serious but scary none the less – by the time I got to the hospital they would not let me drink a glass of water because my throat was almost swollen shut and they did not want me to choke on it.

Here I go again rambling with no point – deal with it. Before I left my house with my friend who was driving me to the hospital, I phoned my family to let them know what was going on. Of course I thought of those closest to me first out of anyone. I thought of my beautiful nephew and niece who have been phoning me every week asking when I will be home from school. My poor little niece just can’t understand why I don’t come home at night to see her, after all her “big brother comes home when he is done at playschool”. Then I thought of my sister and the new baby yet to be born, my brother who I only see once every couple of years, my parents and their fear that was evident on the phone. Their youngest child in the hospital, 4500km away and there was nothing they could do to help. My dad has been calling me a few times a week since to see how I’m doing; before all of this I had probably only talked to him five times this year. Its funny – I’ve been out of my parents house for a couple of years now, I’ve traveled the country, I’ve worked with some of the toughest customers I’ve ever met on the oil rigs of Alberta, heck I’ve even survived for a couple of years as an English Albertan in Quebec (and it’s a damn nice place to – the stereotypes are true and that’s what makes it such a great place – its different!) and yet my family still worries when they hear that I’m sick.

So there I was – helpless in a hospital bed – with that damn blood pressure monitor tightening around my arm and waking me up ever hour through the night. And then it happened. I started to think of the thing that has been plaguing me for the last few months.

The girl.

It donned on me that when I exploded on her (get your minds out of the gutter – I meant when I was yelling at her you sicko) a couple of months ago, and never called her back, that maybe I said some things that I shouldn’t have. I let myself lose control and I hurt someone that I actually care about. Funny because it seems to me that I care about her more than myself – why else would I be thinking about her while I lay attached to machines in a hospital? Sure she hurt me, and made me wish that I had never met her. Jaded you ask – yeah you could say that. I’ve never met anyone before that knocks me to my knees with a single look in the eye. And it sure doesn’t help me forget her any that I fell for her the very first time that I ever saw her – before I’d even spoken to her I thought “holy shit, God sent me an angel”.

So she hurt me, does that give me the right to hurt her back? I don’t know. But God knows I tried when I explained to her on Valentine’s how much she had hurt me. Yeah – typical loser cliché, I know. For some reason I still have myself convinced that this girl is different, that she is the one for me. Maybe it has something to do with the fact that she told me she felt the same way as me. I once asked her to tell me to “Fuck Off”, I had the feeling that I was just “another guy”. I was honest, told her how I felt, hell I even opened up to this girl…. And later found that its true – nice guys do finish last. But before her I’d never been a nice guy before, what made her different? The million dollar question?

So back to the point. I have to destroy all the evidence before I’m going to be able to move on. Sorry for making anyone who reads this listen to all of my troubles – but this is part of me destroying the evidence. Only one thing left to do and I’ll finally be free. You see – today is her birthday. She told me the date of her birthday six months ago and I know she doesn’t think that I’ve remembered it. Back when we were still on good terms I bought her a birthday present. Nothing special – a book – one that I saw and it made me think of her. It’s been sitting on my desk for three months. Like Kryptonite on the desk of Clark Kent – do you think he’d get any work done with that sitting there? Not likely. I’m not sure why I kept it around this long. But what I do know, what I learnt while I was laying in the hospital is that I have some regrets. I left something undone – and I have to make it right before I can let go and walk away. I can’t live with regret, so tomorrow I will deliver the book to the girl who makes me weak in the knees.

I know that it will change nothing – but it’s not about her anymore – it’s about destroying the evidence and being able to move on. I can’t wait to get rid of that Kryptonite – Superman has been slowly dying from the inside out. Tomorrow will be the most colourful day of my year!

I can finally say goodbye to the “Shades of Grey”.

What does this have to do with any of you? Maybe nothing, maybe everything. All I can say is, start listening to your CD’s more carefully and if you have anything hanging over your head – destroy the evidence and move on – and don’t allow regrets to exist in your life.

Soon your days will look as good as those fancy new movies filmed in technicolour! Not like the picture on the old TV that sat on your grandmother’s floor.

.cl

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