One late afternoon: I brush off his hand as he reaches over and touches my shoulder. I don’t have the time for his time consuming, can’t he see. Sometimes I don’t even look up when he arrives home. Trapped in my own space, I think of him all day then take his presence for granted. I see myself looking at him as I shrug my shoulder blade up and move closer to my desk in an immersive flinch. I feel myself wishing he would go. Then his eyes read mine and as if catapulted into a room of lonely mirrors, I realise what I am thinking and hope he never, ever leaves.
One evening: We are dancing in the living room. The street lights and the moon shine through our frosted, single glazed window. We take it in turns to play our favourite songs and spin about the floor, swigging from our wine glasses and moving to a sway as we stand on the sofa. After a minute we flollop down onto the rug and he holds my hand up high and smiling, slowly moves me around in a wobbly circle. Then as our smiles fade, we hold each other close.
One night: We’re walking home and it’s early in the morning. The road is wet and the cold is biting into my lungs. I’m thinking a lot. The early hours are when the possibilities are either endless or dead. Tonight they extend around the world several times and are populated by gypsy babies. I want to discuss all that the world has to offer and how beautiful and awful the whole place is. I wish for whimsical decisions and nonsense. He and I…and the WORLD.
One evening: He is upset but wont talk to me. I am upset but won’t talk to him. It’s awful and I leave, Every second I’m gone is more terrible than the last. I walk and walk until I think I don’t care. I press the buzzer and he answers. I’ve forgotten my keys and we hate/love/hate each other.
One evening: I can feel the rush whoosh past me, the wind is exhilarating as I cycle faster. It’s dark and the bridge is lit, proud and ‘HISTORIC’. I hold my breath as I cycle over. The other three are cycling in front of me and we pick up the pace even more. I close my eyes for a second. There is no traffic and the woods’ freshness and cider fizz is pumping to our legs and deafening our exhaustion. He looks round and smiles as we turn the corner at the end of the road.
One evening: The radio is on and we are are sitting by the kitchen table, my favourite place. We are chatting continuously then not at all. It’s late and we are tired but have so much to say…and not say. There is nothing really here but a cat going in and out and the lull of the radio. A classic song comes on and interrupts the nothing and everything.
One day: We are in Ashton Court after three pints of coffee and newspaper devouring. I’m taking photos and he’s exploring trees. He’s found a hollowed out one and has decided he could live in it if he had nowhere else to reside. I remind him of the amount of household stuff we now own. Then think I don’t want it and might rather live in a tree. A minute later we see a dog with a stick in its mouth six times bigger than the dog itself. It keeps having to take breaks and falls behind his dog brothers. We take a photo of the dog, then look at the deers. We have to rush up the hill because the coffee quantity was a mistake.
Miscellaneous: We are at my Granny’s funeral, my old cat has died, the film scared me, I have no faith in myself, I want to leave my course, i’m so happy, I have failed an exam, a friend has upset me, my baked alaska has collapsed: he hugs me, speaks, I feel safe.
Everyday: The love that is him and I, changes.
Yesterday: I watched Blue Valentine. It is about a couple that have fallen out of love. The film takes place over two days of their marriage, but throughout there are flashbacks to when the couple fell into love with each other. I want to comment so much on the film, but really I know I would be trying to find reasons for their falling out. Is it to do with power, children, goals, etc. But whilst the external factors influence any person, the moment the actual love is gone, it’s all empty, regardless. Which is what makes it so sad. You can’t stop or start it. Love is the saddest and most incredible (unique) thing for the human to experience, and I feel utterly privileged to have met it at all. But I can relate to Blue Valentine and there is no doubt that love changes as time passes. I am definitely no expert on love.
Curb/Happy/Jump/Ow/Fear/Jump/Flinch/Happy/Sad/Happy/Jump/Happy – WAAA!
It’s real and it’s there.
The ‘real’ song: