Break. Break.

After walking away for the second time. I too walked, pulling myself off the brick wall. Not looking back behind, I break. I put on my scarf, groves and hat and walk to the number 8. The lyrics to ‘build a home’ resonate, the triumphant piano builds and builds. I will build a home for you, for me.
Sitting there, all my concentration is on the music, to stop emotion manifesting. When the piano begins to fade and the violin starts. There are tears. Then there he is. His smile is aluminous and it reflects over to me. He touches my head, I fall into his chest. I break again. ‘God I’m so sorry, I told you that I was rude, modern and rude. Please lets go home.’

It occurs to me that there is no difference between, how near? How far? That the length of both are as endless as each other and when I ask each question I realize how lost I am. And that I the longer I look the further away everything seems to be.