I want to write something about planes. Something about how I was standing in the garden on the rocks and stones that were tipping over, arranged in a circle like the new moon, smoking my cigarette, in a dress, black socks and slippers, and an old jacket. Sami and Kriz were taking photos in the alleyway and I was looking up over the trees at a small little plane. It probably was actually quite big, bigger than me at least and I got the calm lonely feeling you get when you're on a plane at night. It reminded me of the book night flight by the guy who wrote the little prince. Maya Seethram gave me a copy. It's about pilots flying solo at night to deliver mail. Some make it there and some get stuck in storms of all kinds. Winds and sands and snow. And if I remember correctly they all make it home. But there's something nostalgic and so serene and very very quiet about night flights
The mornings before a flight are always melancholic. The sun, on a good day, breaks at your feet. Maybe cusping over the world. Clear and bright. Saddened at the new coming day. The goodbye to the night before. Once again passing. A night passes and there's a small cry or howl from far off. Oh babe I hate to go. Close your eyes I'll be on my way. I'll be going off,
I haven't written about you for a while. It feels a little like returning to a wound and discovering its beginning to close. You still enter my mind most days, but you seep out quite easily now. You dont stick around. It's hard to still not wonder if I'm ever on your mind. I dont know when matt will give you that letter. I dont know when we'll next talk. I wonder if we'll never talk again. I wonder if that's the pattern. I get deeper and deeper and in the end, I'm ghosted or I ghost. Someone always dies.
I see you in every man I see. I've forgotten your scent. I need to cut my hair to spring clean you fully out of my life. I wonder if I'll ever get back my ring I wonder if you'll ever get back your book. I booked the haircut for Thursday. Happy April.
Thanks for the free ride, and all of the good times. I wish I could say that to you and not hold back something. Just say that. But you didn't really give me a choice. At least not in my mind. Unless you think I'm not smart enough for that. Dont you forget, you always did say I was more intelligent than you were. I cling on to small things like that. Like matt saying your mom called you an asshole, and like you saying you didn't understand people who weren't ready for relationships and like you and anna talking while we were together and if you ever felt annoyed at me that I wasn't her. I want all that to be cleared. Because it doesn't matter. You are not someone in my life anymore. I can't have your troubles filling my brain. When you yourself bring me enough trouble. We crossed paths and then separated and no matter how hurtful or wonderful it was it happened and now it's over, we carry on and find new people to make and break our hearts. I wonder who it will be for you next? I wonder who will be next for me? I wonder how they'll heal or hurt us. I know they will. I wonder when I'll look back to this period of time and think of it as so long ago, I really thought I wouldn't make it through, but we always do.
I smell like coconuts and fresh water, but a bit different than before. I've got a cat scratch on the burn mark I got after our first date. I was making dinner for us in the kitchen and hot water spilled on me while I was making rice and you kept your hand on my belly with an ice cube in it for a while. Following me around the kitchen as I worked to serve dinner and you worked to quell the burn which turned into a scar that will be on my belly forever as a reminder.
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