You know the girl: a wonder for a weekend, nightmare in a week. “I was her rock, centre and ballast” was what she called me, within the first hour of meeting, lying in her bedroom, surrounded by a party, shortly after sex. Talk about the jackpot, had I won it? You bet your life I had because she was so beautiful, strong and yet fragile: something out of films, or maybe an explorer, but certainly something special: unique you know.
And then she started shouting; screaming because I dropped the kettle. Life as we know it was over and it was all my fault. And then she said “Sorry, I cannot help myself sometimes” and I was young, and thought I could fix things, so of course I put my arms around her and said, “I’ll love you always” which is not good because I’m slightly north of crazy myself: well “out there,” if you want to know, and being someone’s “rock” sounded pretty scary.
And then there were the tablets I took so we could share together and she would not be lonely, tripping over boundaries, living in a kaleidoscope: discovering “Real” together. Turns out to be a kind of hell, “Real” I mean: didn’t say that in the brochure! Wish someone else had told me, but we knew too much by then. Knew everything in truth, except the need to listen.
I was in my twenties, on the road to nowhere, leads us beyond comfort, or normal or average conversations, and now I swear by nothing, because the face I see in the mirror is me turned into Stranger. And you might help me if you’ve got a minute. Tell me where I lost myself. Could you do that?
Am I making sense this time, it’s just the way it sounds right, but we see what we wish to see, and then it all goes pear shape. The truth is all I know for now, but I’ll forget that in a minute.