The weather was so stuffy today. It’s been raining for a while, must have been a few hours since I felt the first drops on my skin. I just hope it won’t start raining harder and get my last 3 cigarettes wet. I smoked like a Turk today… this is my second pack and it’s gone already. And to think I said I will quit.
This rain is really relentless. Must have been three hours if not even more. But it feels so good. It’s weird to consider myself alone in the world, but how can I not when you walk the rainy streets alone at such late hours of the night?
But it feels so good, as if the raindrops wash away all the regrets, yet so wrong when SHE invades my thoughts. I miss HER. She managed to tear me into thousands of pieces that I am still picking up. HER…
It’s weird looking back at times that still hurt to remember how it was and how things are now. It’s oddly satisfying staring in the abyss. Problem is, the abyss looks back.
I had never thought that anyone could be so loving, yet so cruel at the same time. After years of being together, I never could have expected having to start over from zero.
Three years later, I am down the same street, but now just in passing. Our first flat was so very small, but it was great. Other than the yellow bedroom. That was just a misguided choice the owner of the flat made. But in the dark, it’s all the same, isn’t it? In a way I miss the time when a yellow wall was my biggest concern. She did make me grow as a man inside that flat and it will always bring back memories. Some good, now mostly bad, but important nonetheless.
Where are those fucking keys? Why do I even have so many? I don’t know what half of them even open anymore. Maybe I should clean up the key chain someday. Up the elevator and in front of the door. I really don’t feel like opening it, yet alone go through it. Same four walls as every day. In the daytime I wonder why I don’t have a mirror near the door, so i can see in what state I permit myself to go out in. Come night and my arrival back, I realize that it would mean looking at the state I come back in.
Well, at least the bed is still there. Untidy, unchanged bed sheets for the past two weeks, but it’s still there. Why the hell did I even buy a bed this big. Special order to make sure I fit in it, and now it feels like it will always be empty. Don’t even want to feel it under me half the time. Money thrown in the wind. I throw myself with the wet clothes, but I am too tired and fatigued to do anything about it. I raise my head to see the clock’s display show 04:00. Fuck. Twelve hours since I left.
Time really does fly. You never really realize you are running out of time until it’s too late, isn’t it? You don’t have time to eat because you will be late somewhere, pass on a date to prepare for a deadline, all that funky jazz. But what happens when you yourself no longer fit in your schedule? What happens when you reach the end of the road, you look back and see your footprints fade away?
That early? Wait, new text? From myself? What did drunk me do again?
“HER. Ask the blonde. Visitor just after 1.” And the picture of me with bloodshot eyes and half of the woman standing next to me. Wow, I was out of it.
How much did I smoke and drink last night? Argh, the throat is itchy again. Guess I overdid it with the smoking. I’ve been saying I was gonna give up so many times I am starting to give up giving up. Is that smell me? Oh, Christ, it is. Might as well put the clothes out to dry and take a shower. If I can walk a straight line. I need to eat something
Finally. Three eggs, orange juice, bread and coff…Fuck me, forgot to buy the coffee. What time did I even get home? Anyway, doesn’t matter, since it’s Monday, I do not have to go to a boring office job. Ahh, the perks of being the “artist”. To think that people would actually pay money for my delusional thoughts. But I have this nagging feeling I have something to do. Guess I planned in my haziness to go out running. Hmm..fuck that. I’m just gonna pack my laptop, maybe go have a coffee in town.
Who can that be? Would they have coffee? Was that what drunk me wanted me to know?
-Hi! I’m Hannah, remember me from last night? You were a bit inebriated.
I am dumbstruck. I think I might still be drunk as I see the vision in white in front of me. The first thing that struck me were the eyes: bright blue, perfectly and symmetrically placed on either side of a very fine nose. She wasn’t wearing lipstick.
– I’m sorry, what?
– Oh, well, we met last night and texted me this to show you today.
She shows me her phone with a text “HER. That’s the blonde, it must be past 1.”
-Yeah, sorry, please, come in. Drunk me is weird.
As she walks past the smell of her citrusy perfume wakes me up a bit, enough to notice that she wasn’t actually short -about 1,70 tall- and that she was a natural blonde by how she made her make-up. Ahh, the bachelor life. Drunk me still knows how to act apparently.
-Your home is so bright, would be impossible to sleep in.
Little does she know I rarely wake up so early. The flat was at the top of a newly built 40-storey building, but one whole wall was almost entirely floor-to-ceiling glass. Has a great view at night.
-So, about that coffee…
-Well, I guess I invited you out for one since I am out of coffee. I know this great place where you can tell me all about the reason I gave a total stranger instructions to my house with ways to convince me it was my idea.
She had a look about her. I do not remember her at all from the night before, but she was very comfortable around me. I am looking for a new publisher, but I make a rule to not mix business and heavy drinking. Wait, the picture. Only half of her face, but yeah, that’s her.
-You don’t remember anything, do you?
-You proposed last night.
People say my confused look hilarious. I guess she would agree from the laughing fit that took over her when my head tilted slightly to the left and utter the words “Can you repeat that, I think you just said I proposed to you?”.
This is gonna be one hell of a day…