Never become, Never Leave

The urge is coming to fuck-it-all-up, to walk away. Like most things it starts small, a word. Like a verb. Wish, wreck, run. Then after more time, it turns into a string. Unwinding out hours worth of play.

Creating background static started in your lengthened absence. Initially impervious by a coating of your skin on mine, now washed away. Five baths, skin shaved twice.

Ideas not necessarily substantiated. Just second guessing really. My insecurity begins to operate. Continuing life as if you don't exist. An error in action? I end up at Prague bar, as usual. Drinking a lot, as usual; with the comfortable and friendly. The boy that pronounced himself rude and modern, my dear friend. Swimming in booze, laughing at each other, we are joined, a double date? We move to a restaurant, girl boy opposite girl boy. She is watching.

He does like you, but you know.
Yes, I do.
He is not enough.
But he’s lovely?!
Yes, he is.
Then there’s the unsaid sentence.
What are you doing, what about the another?
I’m scared he’s been totally washed away. (I don’t say this)

The pairs pair off and we walk home until the point of our separation. Attaching my lights to my bike I feel he’s watching me, I still like that. We kissed on the mouth, not planned, slightly open. And we both moved away, happily. I don’t look back.

How are we meant to feel about the ones that never become but never leave.

Worry wears me well
The strangest of parasites
devouring insecurity
She is well feed
an ugly beast
cruelty of girls
at its best
I woke up Saturday morning,
with three in my bed
our thoughts the same,
he’s walking you to the station?
he took your hand to hold?
following us
astonished at a distances
she murmur arrows
shooting them to the heart
I cower
breaking
inducing me to act irrational,
in a feverish turmoil.
You don’t know how to be a good girlfriend
How to be respectful, courteous, responsive
You don’t know how to give space,
give up space
But with this war
Your contagious calm
gentle ease and directness disarms us
All of our mouths open
I reach for his mouth,
my tongue is his
I feel her blush
looking away
with jealousy

These days she is paler,
Less well feed,
Hollowness in her cheeks,
More quiet
Less vibrations
I almost can’t even see her.
And no longer dream of others.
I thank him for that.

The slight headache is clouding it all, when all I want to do is clearly write everything, You text me, so I know that I‘m still there. It still surprises me when you’ve thought about me, talked about me, without me. I’ve been there and you’ve been here for 17 days now. I had to check the calendar. The first entry, four days before the show. We are standing next to each other in part of a square in silence, both leaning against the wall. My eyes are down, lying, passive, while R gushes, I act non affected, but I want this stranger who’s face I wont look at yet, to see me. You do, I let your eyes gaze at me without my judgement, you make me feel so pretty. Eventually I look at you and smile, we start conversing, easily and I feel like I’ve known your face forever. I tell myself I can’t kiss this boy, you just can’t. But for the rest of the party we hide from the others and tell the little stories. The theory of 'the little stories' When you first meet someone, you tell them the little stories, the ones that you love, and you want him to love you for. We must never stop telling each other these. It will keep us fresh and happy. I smile too often at your stories. I hate that.

Outside the night is too warm for the end of September. The last thing I wanted to do is go home, alone, to an empty bed of regret. But there is no way. I have already decided it is one of those nights. That will continue without sleep. I asked you if you want to go for a walk, I see surprise in your smile and yes. The streets are empty and I secretly name us the nocturnal walkers. For periods we walked apart in silence, happily.

In a full circle we were standing at my car, then you’re sitting in the passanger seat, we travel towards the bridges in the west. Kings of Leon plays through. The car is parked, the lights of Albert bridge glowing unbelievably romantically. I am cautious about all of this, its easiness.

As we step on over the water the lights turned off, and I am happy because I already know you are going to kiss me, wrapped up in the darkness.

After you is gone and I’m waiting at a bus stop, organizing a big mistake. There is a message. Something to help me believe that unlike all of the other times, same depth impressions have been made. Something real is happening to two people at the same time.


13 days ago, you aren’t here, You wrote 8.30, it’s now 9.10. I am in my blue dress and my hair is perfect and there are whispers of good and greatness around. Uncontrollable my heart is sinking. I give up. K asks me why I look so sad. He isn’t here. But you are, suddenly standing behind her, looking at me. I can’t tell what you are thinking. But you are casual. Lovely. Ready.

At 12, the noctural walkers are out. I kiss you as I wish you happy birthday. I actually close my eyes and wish that. And make that. In my bedroom after meeting your friends you sit puzzled. A small carrot cake, with one candle arrives. Every part of your face says thank you. I’m standing at the edge. When you decide the worthy of one human being.