I thought about touching you, tasting your lips. I thought about drinking hot coffee with you in the cold winter days and how blissful life would be. I thought about being the girl you called after a long day, telling me all you needed was to hear my voice then it would all be okay.
For a while, it had been all okay. You were there and life was blissful. I tasted you and you could never wait to call. You listened and you laughed, making me feel needed, in your arms, in our bed, in the shower, at the back seat of your car.
It was you who turned me into that beautiful mess, getting high on every word you breathed behind my ear. It was also you who brought me nightmares. One day I woke up and all I found were a cold sheet and the empty words you left behind. I dialled the number but you no longer needed me to tell you it would be okay.
I counted the days and I remember them all. The good bits and all the bad ones.
My first glimpse of you, your first smile at me. The first time you saw my bare shoulders, my back, the stretch marks on my thighs, the burn scar below my waist line and you kissed all the way down, marking your territory. The day you left and my body was trapped by those kisses.
I couldn’t move. The ground was shaking under my feet. Love songs started to make me cry and remind me of everything I hated about myself. My mind was filled with regrets and every corner of London was scattered with the remnants of us and every piece of you. I felt like I had nowhere to hide and I was terrified of the possibility that I would never get over you.
Today, I’m glad to tell my silly old self that there was nothing to be terrified of because I AM over you and I’m over us.
But you know what… I must be crazy because I wish I wasn’t. I’m afraid my mind has stopped racing and my heart isn’t feeling anything but blood pumping right now.
Let’s go back to the days when your body was still my home and I danced having butterflies in my stomach. Then the day I followed your traces back but all what greeted me was a deserted city of late apologies and broken promises.
Let’s rewind us back to the time your strong arms still shielded me from the unknown and blues were played in the background of our late night kisses. Then to the 3 a.m I was shivering on the kitchen floor barefoot, listening to that same tune on repeat while waiting for a text that never came.
To the grey mornings that started with the thought of you and never seemed to end even when my teary eyes were shut. To the sleepless nights I thought I was done with us, not knowing my knees would get weak the second I caught your sight.
And even to that unbearable feeling as though I couldn’t go on another day without having you next to me. I was like a drowning person, reaching for the lifeboat that had no space left for me.
I miss it so bad and I want them all again because darling, life goes on and feelings fade… I remember everything, yet today, I can feel nothing. It’s like we never even existed. It’s all gone.
I turn on music and I hear music — I don’t hear any voice. I go to bed and I sleep — I don’t dream any face. I walk around Soho and I see Soho — there is no flashback. It’s all blank and I’m all numb. I have no name to think of and no compelling reason to dial an unsaved number at midnight. Even Tequila doesn’t make me.
It’s like my soul has been sucked out and here’s just a body that has no attachment to its being.
It turns out that sometimes being freed from the past is even harder to cope with than being imprisoned by it. Who would have known the lightness of our being could possibly feel heavier than our own physical weight?
Now, when all is done, there is nothing left to say, no unfinished business, no unresolved problem. There is no more excuse to make stupid mistakes, no more yearning to fill my bed with a warm body.
Life just passes me by. It’s so dull that I wouldn’t mind getting crushed again if it means there is something or someone that has enough power to get to me.
I must be crazy, right?
Don’t worry. I’m fine. I’m still fine. I’m grateful for all what happened, for having felt as intensely as I did and eventually arriving at this peace of mind.
I’m just not quite used to this. It’s not in my nature. From deep inside of me, I suspect that I’m still waiting for something more, for another you, another feeling, for the same sparkles when our eyes met, for a life that has a bit more colours… to pin me down onto this hard ground, like I ever belong.