48 backwards
I wasn’t very forthcoming earlier. The truth is that I do care, of course I care. I want to be wild and fancy free, hair blowing in the wind, but I’m shiver shake step by step and scream.
When you roll over in bed and you hug yourself close to me with that mortal fear, I want to die, too. And I understand why you would. Your life, long though it’s been, hasn’t held much of anything in the way of happiness for you. I think. I don’t know. But I think. I could be mistaken, I was never good at that sort of thing. Whatever that is. I tend toward the hopeless.
In later years, though nothing much happens, contentment - or at least placid tranquillity - is still a struggle. It’s all a struggle. Until you close your eyes. And leave me. Like I once. Left you. Only a bit more. With permanence. For time. Without the courtesy of an empty promise like I made you.
I don’t know what to say to you, I never know what to say, but especially now, precious words cower under the duvet between us. Afraid to be spoken. Afraid to be. Afraid like us. Like you. You.
In the night, when the dark envelops you and you get a tiny glimpse of how it might be and you wonder if this is how it might be, only worse. Only worse. Scared. Alone. Hug close. Hold tight.
I swallow hard. I am not equipped to deal with this slow wasting away and yet it’s all we do. Waste. Things. Away. Slowly. I understand. I think. I understand. The self. The pain. I want you to go, but not like this. I’m not sure how. But not like this.
Björk, All Is Full Of Love, directed by Chris Cunningham
26 April 2008 at 11:21 am
I know all too well how this feels. Brilliantly written.
26 April 2008 at 3:46 pm
Lost for words. Completely lost.
27 April 2008 at 7:05 am
I don’t personally know the sadness. (Knock on wood I’m not jynxing myself). But this makes me sad. I’m sorry. And lost for words too. Any other words.
27 April 2008 at 3:23 pm
Well written. I also enjoyed the video that you’ve attached with your post; what a great match. If only the human race were repairable… Unfortunately, that’s not the nature of life. Here on earth, we must learn to treasure every precious moment.
27 April 2008 at 3:41 pm
K: I’m sorry that you do, K, but thanks for reminding me that I’m not alone.
AUW: I’m putting out a little plate of biscuits, to entice them to return soon.
Clarissa: Knock on wood, too, and I’m sorry for making you sad, I didn’t mean it. :)
Your Wandering Mind: Welcome and thank you. Yes, it’s a beautiful video which fills me with wonder and a tinge of melancholy every time I watch.
27 April 2008 at 9:39 pm
all i can say is — there’s definitely something in the air.
(and also, i love you.)
28 April 2008 at 4:26 pm
‘you have to trust it’
28 April 2008 at 7:44 pm
Ani, this is incredibly sad … and beautifully articulated. Of course you are not alone.
29 April 2008 at 6:56 pm
This is the sadness I lived with for 6 weeks this winter, when somebody else wanted me to go, but, as you say ‘not like that’. It hurts to read this, much as it must have hurt to write it, but articulating how you feel is the first step towards feeling a little better, and hopefully a little less alone.
29 April 2008 at 8:09 pm
Imogen: What, like pollen? ;)
Andre: I trust it, I just don’t trust myself.
Marcelle: Thanks, I’d be lying if I said it doesn’t help to hear it.
Ariel: I’m sorry you had to go through that for six weeks. I know what it feels like to be unwanted. Wholly.
30 April 2008 at 11:09 am
you just have to trust IT and let IT trust yourself x
9 May 2008 at 4:27 am
I’ve always wanted this video playing on constant loop in my home.