I am carrying on as though nothing has happened. I get up and go to college each morning, I do my essays on time and take notes diligently, I eat canteen sandwiches and give massages in the common room and laugh as I drink and dance with my friends. But you have happened, boy, you have happened to me and nothing is quite the same. As I get up each morning, as I complete my schoolwork, as I sit with my friends, I can feel your hair beneath my fingers and your breath on my collarbone, taste your warm skin and your cigarette flavoured kisses, see your smile and half closed eyes, hear your laughter and your raucous singing and your words, over and over again in my obsessive lonely mind…your jokes and promises and revelations and the constant avoidance of my name. I was “girl”, always, as your affection stripped me of my identity. This is the thought that gets me up each morning – your affection would ultimately have stripped me of all identity, until I became nothing but desperate to hold on to you, boy. I have already adopted your silly name avoiding habit, what trait would have been next? Desperate to hold on to you, David. So I guess I’ll stick with having a personality (and whatever you may tell me I know I have that, I am bright and funny and loving) and not having you. But only because you presented me with no option, David. Let’s be clear about that. I would have thrown away my name and with it myself to be your "girl". I think I still would. Don't give me the chance. Also in my thoughts today : sometimes this country is dark and grey and damp, but it is my country and I love it. We love the things we love for their imperfections, not in spite of them. My love for my home does not waver with the weather.
< - >
* the marks of memories forgotten
* wasting emotions, over again
* intentions, and such
* nothing unusual, nothing's changed - just a little older, that's all (damien rice : amie)
* now I understand! It doesn't make sense because it isn't supposed to
|
