Monday, 24 May 2010

A face in the doorway

I stand in the doorway, and the flat looks entirely different. I have moved in. I have a jewelry tree, I have lilac paint on the walls, silk scarves and dirty socks strewn carelessly across furniture.

I am here on my own. My hair tossed up on top of my head, my skin itching.

Is it sorrow? Is it restlessness?

When I look into the bedroom, I fear love.

I have flashes of dreams, of running hand in hand down a road in the rain, dodging the cars and laughing.

Of waking up and cooking breakfast for someone.

That I'm happy, intimate, that I don't think romance is dead, that I'm with someone that sees me, understands me, loves me.

I spend way too much time thinking about that, because the more I do, the more I fear it.

The inevitable disappointment, the scaling back of passion to the Little Love that sustains a relationship alongside dogged commitment and a refusal to give up.

I am not sure this shows on my face. My eyes are dry.

Monday, 17 May 2010

To my rebound crush,

So we have actually spent quite a lot of time together, though I can't remember the time we first met.

I'm tumbling down a slope of falling for you. I don't know if it's serious.

This is what a rebound is I guess, once you are allowed to really experience all those crushes you had to previously suppress, they start blossoming like weeds after a spring shower.

You are lovely, you really are. This whole spring when I've been complaining, whingeing, irritable, erratic, you have given me hugs at every opportunity, you have listened, given constructive advice and loyal support. Even though we barely know each other.

So now I am pouring all my dreams for the future into your cup.

Will you quit smoking if we have children? Will you sometimes bite your tongue and watch lame TV with me? Will you put up with me not talking to you for a day when your football team beats mine? Will you do half of the housework? Will you hold me when I wake at night and I'm scared? When I forgot to get something really important for supper, will you nip out and get it, and kiss me when you return? Will you cry when I tell you I'm pregnant? When you propose, will you look me in the eye and still be your own person?

I am asking so much of you, and who knows, maybe in real life you read the Daily Hate Mail and we have nothing in common. There is only one way to find out, but I don't think I'm ready to try yet. And I'm certainly not ready to break your heart in three months time when I realise that yes, it was just a rebound crush and you were not the cup I should be pouring all those hopes and dreams into.

Because even if you are not the one for me, you are without a doubt one of the nicest people who have crossed my path since I can remember.

Maybe when I come out on the other side, I will tell you this.

I know you will listen.