Under the darkening summer sky, our bodies strained and sweaty mix. Under the waxing moon all our doubts are gone, blending into you I found the cure. The cure and the poison at the same time. How long until it burns my veins and crushes my heart ? Oh how I am weary, but the weariness is fading for now it seems, so I let myself drown into you, I let you creep under my skin, gently, furiously, with a raging urge. I let your hands wander around, oh how I love it and how I hate it.
The sun is rising and the sky is all shades of blue. A perfect day in London. I wake up with a feeling of unneasinness. Morning passes before my eyes, it just unfolds like a movie. Getting up, eating breakfast, going to work. None of it seems real, I feel as if I am still half asleep. People talk to me, I talk to people. What are they talking about ? It feels futile and unimportant. I feel weary. These past months I’ve been fading. Slowly, very slowly. The distance between me and the world increases. I feel cut out, I feel out of place. When people smile, when they laugh, when they cry. I can feel nothing. I don’t even know if I could really say who I am any longer. I’m molding into the expectation people have of me. They don’t seem to notice though, all pretending to know me so well. When I get home at night I dive into a book and sitting still I could disapear completly, so quietly that nobody would notice. I don’t know how I feel about it. Part of me wants to scream, to fight, to exist intensely, it wants to get out, to get through, to reach out, to escape. But the other part doesn’t care, it’s weary, it’s tired, it wants to cower in a corner and let things flow far away. It’s tiring, to exist really, I mean, being careful not to blend in to much, you have to find the energy and the courage to be yourself even when it’s most difficult, even when everyone around wants you to be someone else. It’s easier to just blend into the shapes people present you. Finding a good job, working with people you don’t find interesting at the least. You still have to smile to Julie and Daniel or is it Jordan ? They’re nice for sure. But if they knew you for real, they would be disgusted or they would be scared.
I’m too intense when I’m fully alive, I can’t be contained, it scares people. I have to tone it down, a chance I’m good at blending in but there’s no middle ground. Even though I suffocate, people tell me I’m doing good. My mother is proud, my brother is proud, my friends are envious. I got a good job and a good place to live in. But I’m slowly disapearing. It’s hard suppressing yourself but it’s still easier than having to push through to be yourself everyday. I bottle up my feelings of asphixiation but I’ll blow it someday. Either I’ll break down or I’ll just fuck it up. I could do that in so many ways. It’s interesting, imagining your seemingly perfect life shatter to pieces in a dozen different ways.
But now is not nearly the time, I can hold on a bit more still. Maybe in a month, in the mean time I’ll just push these thoughts in the background.
Julie is standing next to my desk, smiling as always. Her perfect face is boring. « It’s six already. » She says with a light voice. I look at the clock : time to go home. The thought doesn’t even really register anymore. From morning to evening my life feels like a continuous flow. It’s redundant. It’s boring, just like Julie.
I get up and smile back at her. « Thanks Julie, I’ll be going first then ! » I answer politely. I grab my notebook, my pencil and some files and push them into my backpack. Everything’s fine. I’m walking through the office. The elevator takes exactly four seconds to reach the ground floor. I storm through the hall to reach the street. It’s hot outside and the air is saturated with pollution. The noise of the city is ever here, the sounds of the cars and the voices of the passer-bys blend together. I blend in with everything. Everything’s alright. My old friend Maria wants to see me tonight, we’re going to the cinema. I have to go back to my appartement quickly. I make a sign to a cab. It parks in front of me, I get in. The driver is a middle aged man, his hair is turning grey. « 54-60 Tollington Road please. » the driver enters the address in his gps and the cab gets back into traffic. Eighteen minutes later I’m in front of my appartment. It’s a quiet place on the first floor with two windows. It’s confortable for sure. I ask the driver to wait for me, I won’t be long. I swear as I try to open the door. The lock is old and should be changed. The door finally opens and I enter the luminous space. It’s already six past thirty, I change quickly into new clothes and swallow a vitamin pill. I put my notebook and my files on my desk and get out again. It’s not dark yet outside, we are approaching the longest days of the year. I get back into the cab and ask the driver to take me to Leicester square. Resting my head against the window I look at the city and fall asleep midway. The harsh voice of the driver wakes me up. I pay and slips out of the car. The air is cooler but not fresh still, the sun is sunking behind the skyscrapers. I yawn and stretch, Maria told me to meet up in front of the Hippodrome Casino. I walk accross the street to the Casino and look around for long black hair and round glasses. I can’t seem to find her. I suddenly jump as someone coming from behind me puts his hands on my shoulder. I turn around to see Maria and her wide smile. She died her hair blond, no wonder I didn’t see her. « What’s up ? » she asks joyfully. I shrug my shoulders. « Not much. » She looks at me with understanding « Mmm. Well this movie is going to be so great ! » She says with a burst of enthousiasm. I nod. Even she feels far away now, but I instantly regret thinking that. I’m so stupid.
The movie is good, it’s not the best movie I have ever seen but it’s good. Maria decides that we should absolutely eat a waffle after the movie. “ Actually, she says in a very serious tone, there’s something I have to tell you.”
We’re sitting on a bench eating our waffles. I don’t like that sentence “I have to tell you something.” It usually precedes something bad.
“You know that Milo was in Barcelona right ?” I nod in silence but I get very agitated inside, what about Milo ?
“Well, she hesitates and her eyes are avoiding mine, he, he committed suicide yesterday.”
Everything suddenly goes mute. I can’t hear the cars nor the people chatting nor can I hear Maria explain what happened.
It’s not actually that surprising but it hurts. I think of Milo and his half smiles, his deep eyes. His beautiful thoughts. Yes, he was always on the edge but never falling down. Why now ?
I won’t see him ever again. Just as that thought really forms in my head it is followed by another : we were so much alike. Carrying so much of the same burdens, we understood each others, it was reassuring. Am I going to end like that too ? Is my weariness going to eat at me until I will not commit to living anymore ?
Fuck.
It’s too hot in my room, and I can’t find sleep. The sheets are all sweaty. Am I going to end like that ? Like a dying candle light I’m already wavering. No I won’t. I won’t.
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