The Allman Brothers Fan

I decided I wanted a tall skinny burnout for a boyfriend to go along with all the weed I was smoking. I preferred he be a musician. And since I worked at a music store, eventually I found one. He was a huge "Allman Brothers" fan. I went along with the whole Allman Brothers thing because I wanted him to like me. The only song I knew was "Ramblin' Man", but I pulled it off because he was only really listening to himself talk about the band. I prefer darker music that you can slam your fists on the steering wheel to and bang you head against the headrestto the beat of the bass drum, but I made a point to go with the flow. I sat on the couch and watched him play air guitar while I did a little jammin' with my neck.

I try to slide into someone's life with little to no impact. The last thing I want to be is annoying. My boyfriends would say I'm easy-going, but really, I'm just a hard-core codependent with people to please. I like what they like, I do what they do, I eat what they eat. I'm agreeable with a touch of inner rage and boredom. I'm not sure any of my ex-boyfriends back then would have liked me, but we'll never know because I have no idea who showed up. It's really alot to expect someone to guess who you are. And if you don't tell them you really don't like Birkenstocks or tofu or jazz fusion or rock-climbing or Star Wars how are they supposed to know. I had a boyfriend who sold snakes. He put them in a brown paper bag to hand deliver them to clients. I carried 9 snakes in a paper bag to work just so he could make a sale. I said I had no problem with snakes. Which I most certainly do. But he liked snakes, so I liked snakes.

My new Allman Brothers’ boyfriend could have been Greg Allman's stunt double, but he was too much of a stoner to master any stunts. He had long blonde hair and a beard but all I ever saw him do was smoke a bowl and vacuum his apartment. I don’t even know if he could really play guitar. He’d pick it up sometimes, but never plug it in. He was everything Allman Brothers- records for the apartment, tapes for the car, t-shirts, posters, mushroom patches and pins. Peaches, peaches, peaches, even an “eat a peach” night light which he probably got for Christmas. What else would you get this guy.

I shape-shifted into whoever I needed to be to fit in his life. I thought that's how it worked.

Boy was I ever wrong.

It's nice to have a few things in common, but no one wants to date their twin. Unless the person is a controlling freak that likes the idea of a girlfriend, but in theory only. Then, you're perfect. Eventually, I couldn't tell you what I liked and what I didn't like anymore. I couldn't decide what to eat, let alone anything as important as what music I was into. I was a mish-mash of every boyfriend I'd ever had. I didn't even own a pair of jeans that didn't come with a history attached.

I fell madly in love this this guy, or so I thought. He had his own apartment that was filled with plants. We would get high and listen to, big surprise, the Allman Brothers. He had a lot of clothes that he would wash and lay in a hot heap on the bed, fresh out of the dryer. Then he'd sleep on them. Kinda weird, but in the moment, I probably said, “what a coincidence I do that too”. Which of course I wouldn't even think of doing. I fold my clothes and put them in the dresser or hang them on hangers and put them in the closet. I'd never even think of leaving them in a basket, let alone use them as a sheet set.

Our love affair lasted a few weeks. I was way too into him considering these were the only things I knew about him.  I was too busy worrying about whether or not he liked me to stop and figure out if I liked him. As it turned out, he was “on the rebound”. I didn't even know what that meant, but I was about to find out. There was a smoky sadness around him that unfortunately I found attractive.

Out of the blue, he stopped answering his phone. He disappeared from my life and left me standing without air. My life stopped. I couldn't sleep for fear I'd miss his call. My thoughts consumed me so much I couldn't work.

I finally mustered up the courage to get in my car and go to his apartment. I didn't really know what I was looking for, but I couldn't handle the way he abruptly cut me off. I felt like if I could just talk to him, I'd feel better. He could fix me, and I wouldn't feel as devastated and hopeless. When I got to his apartment, I sat in my car and stared at all the sliding glass doors of his apartment building. One after another with balconies stacked on top of each other, each with their own sliding door. They had barbecues and wind chimes, flags and potted plants. Every door led to a life I wasn't living. I wondered how people did it. How do they go on when something like this happens?

Now what?

When I got to the door, I heard voices. I stood out there and listened to them for a long time. I had my ear to the door like a freak.

I could hear a girl's voice

I wasn't sure what to do when I thought I heard them getting ready to leave. I backed down the hall and acted like I was walking into the building when they came out of the door. He looked like he was going to run but then approached me like a sister. He introduced her as his fiancé. She was not in the least bit taken aback. I, on the other hand, felt like I was wading through soup. They were both talking at once. She had come by to get her plants. She had her belongings in her car because she was moving from one friend's house to another's, but they got back together, and she moved her stuff back into his apartment instead. The plants she came to get, stayed right where they were.

a thought bubble formed over my head

“so....hmmm...the plants weren't even his....was anything he told me true.....maybe she was the Allman Brothers fan, hence the attraction... what is going on here...I'm confused....man, she is fucking skinny... how ironic, she's a prettier version of Cher... didn't Greg Allman marry Cher... oh shit, he's smiling...I've never seen him smile... he's wearing glasses... this is fucking weird... oh I have them trapped in the hall... I should move... maybe I'm asleep... I don't feel very well”

He said he kept meaning to call me, blah, blah, blah. He said they were engaged now. She was very happy. She actually showed ME the ring. I finally let them pass and suddenly realized I was standing in the hall and I didn’t live there. So, I followed them out the door. They got in their car and waved. I got in mine and we both drove away. That was that.

I was in shock

I went back to my apartment by the train tracks and sat on the steps. I watched trains go back and forth all night. The morning light came over the sky, but the sun did not come with it. It started pouring rain. I was glad. I hate when I'm sad and it's fuckin' sunny. Generally, I prefer the clouds. I went inside and listened to the song “Daisy Jane” by America over and over and over. Lyrics mean what I need them to mean sometimes, despite the intention of the writer. I couldn't tell you the actual words to that song, but I could tell you what they meant to me. Daisy Jane didn’t know if she would make it. A piece of her had died.  I sat on the floor in front of the turntable and kept picking up the needle and setting it back down at the beginning. My roommates told me he was a total jerk, and that they didn’t like him anyway. But I was inconsolable. Even if he had gone about it in a more sensitive way, I would have come apart.