Fade Into You

I never thought I would say it, but everywhere (above my computer) I look I see hearts, on paper, as paper, in red glass and silver cast. Like in the girls rooms I never was invited to. I quitely mocked them for their sentimentality. With photo’s of their boyrfriends, their delicately hung with bluetack fairylights and stragetically placed ornaments like hearts and bra’s. Slowly in the absence of that something great I had turned. Was it a defining moment or a series. Look I’m writing a diary, fuck, writing and wish they’d call and say they made the mistake. At 8:45 while being lead out of conscious, allowing the flow of images to slide over me; her song killed my fake bliss. Chords were stuck and I was brought to an old specific moment, with long sleeps with Mazzy Star and playlists called his name ending-in-o that I still have sent to trash and then there’s smell of fried fish coming from my kitchen. I had no idea what I had stumbled across, I think neither had he.

I wrote the notes on fish dreaming and had it in my back pocket when I bumped into him that day and with surprise in my tone and on his face, i handed it to him. He walked away before anything else could have been said. I know why all this is coming back and up and hopefully not out. How are we ever going to move on when we can’t forget, or maybe forgive the imperfections and frights. It was surprisingly hard to give in and agree when she told me despite all of my moans and messes, I wasn’t ready of either of them, and one particular, neither is he. I wish there was some kind of comfort in that.

Decisions are being made now, about short futures and those osrts of things. All of a sudden is it time to grow, out of this institution and its comfort, comfort, comfort, comfort. I have a terribly sickly feeling in my stomach that something has happened, like it does in the movies. Beyond my neuroses and paranoia. Alone typing, i’m nodding with myself. When the two ghosts met at the party on saturday night out of the awkwardness, did either of them mention or disclose...

I have nothing to hide, I had been as honest as I can be to both. Except this one point; that one was nothing but my fantasy and absolute dream and the other, my dear friend, is my future, whatever that maybe.

Fuck. I was walking through the park, angry and ashamed at myself for allowing him to upset me with him tone. Another call came through, he’s just been running and told me to come over and he let me sickly, fall alseep and we spooned and I left in the morning well again. Do I need to let all of these go. Please let me. Is this how it’s going to work out. Letting go and then calm for the next phase?

The day will come...

I have sockets on my teeth. It's been two days since I brushed; my hair is dishevelled and the smell of fabric softener is fading away from my jumper i'm constantly wearing. I smell of warm skin and grease. I listen to sparklehorse. You know what gets to me the most. spooning, how he just does, arm sunk into my waist head resting between my shoulder blades, he's knees bent with mine. I think that is what love feel likes. I promise myself next time it will be me that undresses him, and in the morning it wont be him that initiates the act. Next time.

There is this moment i continue to see over and over again. We are on the underground standing close together like we have done a million times before, we sway with the motion of the tube and without looking at him; I allowing with every rock for my mouth to open a little more, and to move a little closer. I kiss him, in public, surround by strangers. And that is a profession of love, no?

Fucking petting...

I’m waiting for a time when wednesdays mean something else. but for now... can’t you see i’m trying. There is nothing but a glance that comes to us now. Inside I am viciously angry and weak over him and somehow getting lost there.
Yesterday silently we passed in the stairwell. I promised myself to look up only briefly. I can hardly bare his eyes talking that stops me from ever moving further away. So I look for a second, and see the saddest smile. I think maybe it was my reflection and I carry moving down. But i feel his hand in my hair and words of consulation through them. He touched me, he peted me. and I didnt turn around. I was so angry, I was so fucking angry, how dare he pet me, like a child, like a little girl. And with that vicous anger I told her and we laughed with our evil streak and he caught us in passing, i turned the other way, and still laughing at him she ruffled his hair. I ignored him later when he asked me what that was about.

Losing my friend

This is how we operate. This is how we live it out. Again. There’s a gurk, anticipating with words still unsaid. My mouth open, almost ready, with admiration and a tongue for licking. His look could tell me a thousand things but I’m not seeing. I remember his friend saying that we are always seeing but never looking, i contradict with we are looking but never seeing. Even and especially places at the end of your nose. And fine I’m no different, but the decision is mine alone, away from words and gazes and arrogent fringes and confessions late at night at bus stops. A new post-it note above my computer, thoughts causing friction. the friction between his and mine. There’s some mechinacal happening, repetition, volleying, smiling, nuzzling. Somehow it all seems more deeper than before. Trying to see things your way...

What are we going to do now...

a little too late

...How strange is this fog?
Please don’t talk about the weather

We were too young
I know
I know you know, you told me.
When?
When we were too young.

Oh.
That makes you sad?
A little, but it’s okay. (Lie)
I think you don’t really remember,
No I don’t, when was it?
No, I don’t think you remembered anything that happened between us.
You weren’t really there, you still aren’t quite and, well maybe you never will. I’m just saying it wasn’t just that we were too young, just, you were never mine, and it certainly wasn’t love. but everything is fine now.
Fine!
Yes fine, and that’s a good thing.
I’ve changed in a thousand different ways, too.
Really? I know, I know.
I eat dark chocolate and brussel sprouts
Well you obviously have grown up.




can you feel it?

I saw playing with my brother, and I had been captured and my hands had been tied behind my back. I had tried to escape and was running, and laughing, laughing too much. and I fell and couldn’t break my fall, my chin hit the pavement. There was blood everywhere. It was so gross. My mum cried when she saw me with blood running down my chin and my some teeth missing.

And you, any war wounds.

Not really...I do have four little ones on my chin just under my lip. I was having tea, fish fingers and beans at a girls house that I wasn’t really friends with, I must of been seven maybe even younger and she just threw a fork right at my face. I was so embarrassed I didn’t move, I didn’t even touch to see if it was bleeding. I just ignored the fact that it had happened. When her mother came in to check up on us, she saw me sitting there with blood dripping down. I don’t remember much else
what awful thing I must I have said to deserve that.




I was looking for it in you

I have this childhood memory of my parents fighting, they didn’t often and even less in front of me. My mother was washing up as they were shouting at each other. For the life of me I can’t remember why, it was just so. He must have said something so awful that she slapped him across the cheek. But what was so amusing was that her hands were covered in soap bubbles and as she swung her hand the bubbles flew into the air and covered his face. And that was that they said nothing to each other, and even a smile crossed their faces. My father stopped shouting and eventually walked away from her and that fight was never continued again. I just assumed that it was always going to be this way with you. That we too have a silver lining...