Harold Says Hello

I know you see me.  I know what you think about me.  I really don't care.  I sit here, like a rock in a river--no one pays any attention, they just rush around me.  And every day, a woman walks by--long, flowing brown hair, or those startling blues, or even just a whiff of the right perfume--and I think it's her.  I know it can't be, but, God, do I wish it were.  I try to drown myself in whiskey--my poison of choice--and I think that it'll dull my memory of her.  Maybe, just maybe, I'll forget about her for a while.  I've been thinking that for five long years.  You'd figure I'd have learned by now.  But I haven't.  I guess that some people just learn habits, and then--well, can't unlearn them. 

Ah, you don't need to hear all the sorry details of the story.  I mean, I started trying to forget, and I couldn't, and then I stopped caring.  You know, good job down the tubes, my family gave up after a while, and my friends...well, they never did get it, anyway.  So, I kept pouring the whiskey.  I kept looking for her.  Heck, I still do sometimes.  And eventually...here I am, the star of 19th Ave.

But God, was she beautiful.  And I don't mean the knock-you-down-with-a-stick model-type chick.  I mean an honest-to-goodness beautiful, quirky person.  She had her faults, but when she walked into a room, BAM!  You couldn't see anything wrong with her.  Heck, you couldn't see anything BUT her.  That was the love of a lifetime.  Unbelievable, that one.  I couldn't see it, though, you know?  I mean, what in the world was this beautiful woman doing with ME?  Yeah, well, I guess that after a while...she couldn't see it, either.  Just...up and vanished one day.  No note.  No stuff.  No nothing.  

You know, this stuff just knocks you right out.  You can't remember a thing in the morning: no dreams, no nothing.  And sometimes, it's just too cold out here to sleep.  No dreams that way, either.  I don't mind.  I don't dream, I don't see her.  I don't see her, she can't leave me again.  Listen, I know it's time to move on, but sometimes the heart just won't let go.  What can you do?

Oh, and...if you happen to see a tall, stunning woman named Vanessa with long, flowing brown hair, startling blue eyes, with the scent of lavender dust around her, just tell her...Harold says hello.