I see you

We’d just had sex, relishing in the warmth of post orgasm cuddle play when he looked me in the eyes, “You know I really like you.”

My chest swelled with euphoria and fear and I smiled, “Me too!” But just as my reply reached his ears the sparkle disappeared from his eyes, his lips curled down ever so subtly – the post coitus warmth had dried up and my bed felt like winter.

“It’s okay, I know you don’t.” He said, the eye contact was broken now.

“What do you mean?” I asked.

He was looking out the window, his thoughts were now as far as the mountain ranges in the distance. He started speaking, “You don’t want a relationship. You don’t want a boyfriend. You’re so lonely but you only want guys that are temporary but then when they are willing to stay in your life you back away because you’re so scared of getting close to someone.”

All I could do was nod. I didn’t know what to say but I couldn’t disagree.

He continued, “I feel sorry for you, I don’t know what happened to you but I’m really sorry that it happened. In all the time I’ve spent with you, I still have no idea who you are.”

Just like that it was gone, my jig was up. An act even I wasn’t actively conscious of up until that point.

Again, I just nodded and looked down at the messy linen sheets, really deep into the thread work and imperfections – speckles here and there, lumps and bumps.

Slowly I took my gaze up to my reflection in the mirror where I only saw myself. He was all but gone.

Rather than looking at my reflection, I was looking through myself in the reflection. My eyes glazed as I floated out from my body to imagine me viewing myself alone in the room watching myself look through my own reflection.

I felt so empty.

Wall

I made this wall to keep the harm out, it has served me well but there is something else. After years behind the wall, I’m getting this growing sense that I am somehow missing out.

I see you and you see me but as we go to touch, something stops us.

The wall keeps you out too.

Now I sit here in my space where I used to feel so safe. But now, it’s not just that I’m missing out but something else – I feel something sinister here with me, invisible to my eyes as I look around.

It’s just me, there is nothing in here, what could it be?
That’s when I catch a glimpse in the reflection of the glass.
It is in me, it has been growing in me and changing me.

I realise now is the time to let down the walls. I’m not ready but I don’t think I will ever be.

All I know if I don’t I will cease to be me.

Coward

I’m a coward because anytime anyone has ever called either of you out has been willed out of existence with your over inflated sense of moral and intellectual superiority.

I’m a coward because I can’t count how many times you looked the other way as you walked past my room when I was crying and felt so alone in the world.

I’m a coward because when I gave you a present you never acknowledged it and left me to find it amongst rubbish in the garage.

I’m a coward because your circumstances are so unique they prevent anyone from questioning your behaviour. 

I’m a coward because neither of you apply the same harsh rules to yourselves as you do to others.

I’m a coward because you turn on the charm offensive as soon as you sniff out the faintest hint of generosity like hungry ghouls only to disappear once what you came for is well and truly consumed. 

I’m a coward because I would be threatened when I was at my most vulnerable if I ever spoke up.

I’m a coward because whenever anything went wrong you left me to fix it and never offered a helping hand unless it affected you directly.

I’m a coward because you’re both so damn deluded that you have no idea nearly everyone around you is thinking what I’m saying.

No, none of this is on you at all because I’m a coward.

Game

It’s that point you reach in a game where you’re about half way and stuck.

You’re going around in circles and no matter what you can’t seem to find the key to get through the door which is going to unlock the rest of the game for you.

Maybe it’s that key I discarded earlier in the game?

Or it could be right in front of me but I’m just not seeing it?

At any rate I’m stuck and I know it.

I keep walking around and sometimes, for the briefest moment I find something that seems like the answer, riding on the feeling of accomplishment it gives me before coming to the realisation that it wasn’t that at all.

Other times all I find are enemies that I have to fend off.

I’ve been stuck on this level for a while and part of me is wondering if I will ever find the key.

Have I missed my chance?

Is it now somewhere beyond my reach?

Fat

We’re sitting there after dinner and he puts his arm around me as we talk. “Dinner was absolutely great.” He leans in closer to kiss me.

I feel the familiar wet, warmth of lips touching mine and I block out my surroundings. His hands slowly move lower as they inspect me. They stop on my hips – left hand pinches my hip fat. With a discovery made, both hands crawl and pinch and work towards my stomach where I feel another pinch.

Through our kiss I feel his mouth open and hear a little laugh, “You’re actually a bit on the chubby side – I didn’t expect that.” He says.

There’s that sick feeling again. The twang in my heart.

My eyes are open and fixed on something in the distance that I can’t make out. I softly push the guy away and try to not let my emotions betray me, “Well if you don’t like it then you can go find someone else.”

He looks guilty and perhaps realises what he’s just said, “Oh no, that’s not what I meant, you’re really sexy but it’s just cute that you have fat. I don’t mind, it’s totally fine.”

I don’t know how to respond.

He’s trying to hug me again and apologise but it feels worse. Now it’s pity. Anything beyond this point is just pity for the guy who wasn’t as perfect and someone imagined him to be.

My chest is tight and my eyes have glazed over.

I find myself on the No.59 tram heading home alone, looking at my fading reflect in the glass being swallowed by night.

At home and I’m in front of my mirror in my underwear looking at my deformed body. Nipples too big, hips too much fat, bulge not big enough, not enough definition in my chest which accentuates my nipples.

In the bathroom in front of another mirror and I’m still the same crying into my toothbrush because now everything is all starting to make sense.

In bed, floating in the darkness waiting to disappear. There’s a flash to my left as my phone lights up and my eyes focus in to see there is a message from the guy and the first line looks like an apology of sorts.

I stare at those words until the light disappears and I’m back to floating towards the abyss once more.

My body shudders with the sound of the passing train.

You and Him

He checks his phone and notifications when he’s out with you but you’re sure you recall him saying he prefers to be disconnected and live authentically.

He says he doesn’t have enough money to go out but his stories show that he’s taken up the company of someone more generous and desirable than you.

He promises that he isn’t some jerk who fucks people around but after he’s cum inside you his contact thins out to the point where you question whether he even existed at all.
A ghost? No, my bank account says otherwise.

Surrounded by familiar faces asking you why you’re still alone. But you’re such a catch they all say each and every time. They can’t believe it. 
You say you can’t believe it either but that’s not true is it?

Because you’ve been busy when you haven’t been busy.


You preach the authentic life with a convincing veil but deep down you’re just as consumed.


You have definitely pretended to be broke and put your company out to the highest bidder so someone would pay for your evening out. You absolutely have.


And yes, you have been the jerk who made promises he cannot and knows he will not keep and when you get what you want you tactfully withdraw, deflecting questions and suspicions with convenient and perfect answers because you you’re so damn clever.


So when you’re asked why you’re single despite your qualities. You know that deep down you are flawed just as he is, you have hurt others like he hurts you.

All you do is smile and throw your hands in the air and make some cynical joke to lighten the load.

Somewhere else, at some other time, he is having that exact same conversation with himself over and over again.

Between 3am and 5am

I wake up with a start and I know it’s way before my alarm. In fact, I have a hunch I already know what the time is.
Rolling to my left side slowly, I reach over to the bedside table and my finger taps the screen of my phone. The phone is awakened by my touch bringing a ghostly illumination to the room.

3:27am.

I knew it.

Something to do with my lungs – grieving and sadness.
What am I grieving and what can’t I let go of?

The phone screen shuts off and I’m plunged into darkness again.