I may lose the Stratocaster.

Chris came into the cafe today and told me that Harold was going to pay it off when he received his income tax refund. Needless to say, he didn't know that Loretta had told me I could get it back, and I told him that it was too late. Loretta had resold it. To me.

Well ...

Someone called a few minutes ago. I can't say for certain who it was, but from the gist of the conversation, I would hazard to say that it was either Harold or Chris. This is the reason why I think I'll lose the Strat. If it was one of them she was talking to, she didn't argue or point out the glaring deficiencies in the way Harold handled the purchase. She didn't point out that he hasn't paid on it in three months, or that he hasn't as much as called.

She said she would let him know something. Which means I'm fucked. Since she didn't argue the point in my favor, that means that his option is the best one for her. All I can offer is $20 a week. He's offering cash money. And God knows the almighty dollar is the only things which gets her blood pumping. You see, I won't give Loretta the money he (Harold) already has in it (The Strat) so that she can return it to him, and I think that would be the variable to determine whether I kept it or not.

Besides ... as yet, I've paid nothing on it.

All my vested interest is in heart and blood and soul. I love the guitar. I remember the dreams I entertained on it. I think of the few pitiful dreams remaining, and I would love to just be able to reach out and touch the one thing which meant so much to me in other days.

But these things mean nothing to them. Harold, Chris, or Loretta. I went to Florida and lost everything. I lost the equipment which meant so much to me. I lost my music. Jesus. I lost my dreams. I really did have a chance at making super fucking demos, and I let it all slip away ... all for the love of a woman who never gave a fuck about me. All for a few short, joyful weeks in St. Augustine.

And now ... Now that I've regained a bit of my past, a part of the dream, a part of that old ache, I may lose it again. Again ... all for the love of a woman ... and because of the silly notion that there is truth, and there is justice, and that my needs and desires mean something to someone other than myself ...

That there is light where once there was darkness.