When I was little my Papa would try and drive through the night, so we could enjoy the next whole day waiting for us. I'd be sat in the back of the car and buckled in tight. The streetlamps would flash past and when we'd come to a long tunnel it was as if the sound had been sucked out of the world. It was always a long way and I never made the distinction between being awake and having fallen into a dream. I saw the bridges come and go, just as we passed the lights every few seconds. And as we'd get away from the city haze soon the stars would flood the sky and the darker blues would compete to fill my vision, here and there. But I'd never felt scared or confused. Worried about where I was heading. Because of 'we'. With someone keeping me in mind and who had carefully lodged me in their heart on first sight years before. Partly because I knew nothing really of evil and a world out there (really outside of my younger years), but I felt safe. What a homely feeling that is. This feeling is always consistent but not constant. You know it is there, without actually acknowledging it. It'll creep up on you when you least expect, want or need it to. Though it is not always welcome, as time moves forward change makes the past real and in that old, warm familiar feeling becomes locked.
I gave away all and kissed my heart goodbye, for an indefinite time of return. May it's journey remain golden, as a body is left broken. The hardest phone call after the longest night. I can't tell you how I sat and choked on words I'd missed out when it was dark outside and the house was sleeping. Rocking back and forth, so slowly in a place once known for comfort. Apologies flying by the ceiling, looking for gratification of redeeming bad deeds. Exactly what you need to have the pain go away now taboo. The irony of only wanting that. Remembered an old safety, a warmth like a little match inside me struck and I held on to it. But it burnt out too quick and I was only reminded of how alone I am.
So day to day things are changing and events are happening but there is no connection felt. I'll smile, laugh and spin round holding your hand but you can't take away the cold inside. The tears that keep falling every night. The painful reminders that come every time denial pulls me back towards his delicious graces. A stab in the dark. Now things have changed she says that the obvious way is forward and on to new horizons. Well no, because that's not right. Too hollow and empty for that. You shall not try to understand this because we are all different. You used anger to shake me, and hurt me so. I sat wishing it wouldn't stop, in spite of the pain it reminds me of you.
It's as if I stood, not so elegantly, on an ancient rug: moth-bitten and with it's rich colours faded, it had once been so new. Trying to find a sense or balance, regain some purpose or any other. Some trickster came along, without magician's skill, and pulled it out from clean under me. We (audience included) are waiting for me to slam to the ground, but I won't leave running. It just hasn't hit me yet. The audience won't get their melodious laughter quite yet. Just as eagerly looking for some tears to fall. Admit everything no one can can see how time stands still, except in torturous habit should it choose to proceed maliciously slow. I am wishing for you to be so very happy, always. But I never saw it coming.