This isn’t me trying to make you change your mind; I’m about as stubborn as stubborn gets. No, this is me and my usual unwinding…
Sometimes I think I’ll never ever met someone who can take me from the A-Z spectrum of feelings within seconds, minutes, hours and days like you do. ‘A’ signifies the utmost positive that makes you think ‘God, the world is so beautiful’, and synchrony is just exactly like this, but the Z… The Z is for the slums, the blackest negatives that drive you to redefine this darkness and despair that threatens to tear you into unrecognisable shreds.
I didn’t get it. I pulled the door open and walked away, listening to it shut amidst the sounds of my pointy black boots echoing defiantly. The elevators took so long that I thought desperately, perhaps the floor can swallow me now. I don’t want to stand here any longer, I don’t wanna be here anymore. The warm excitement and tingly anticipation that had kept me walking up that hill in the hot sun in my layers and layers had left me alone in this suddenly painful place, and I wanted it to come back, sit me down, and explain to me what had just taken place. Instead, the elevator doors opened, I pressed ‘G’ and it immediately shut. On any given day, I love leaning on people, feeling them support me; it gives me a warmth I can’t explain. But I leaned against the wall in the elevator alone, hoping no one on other floors would want to descend at the same time. Leave me. the hell. alone.
I sat in the stationary bus, wishing it’d fucking move, whilst hoping that you’d turn up through the automated doors, like my own personal Superman, since you seem to take me to the skies, but still drop me safely below, making sure I land on my own two feet. I was tempted to yell at the bus driver to take me home, but my sensible side won. The only argument it has won tonight, since it’s still unable to make sense of things. Maybe I’m wrong, and you don’t really know as much about me as I think you do. My confused self is unable to move, stuck in the lost section with worn hats and sweaters that smell distinctly of mothballs; won’t someone find me and return me to where I think I belong? You push me to times like this, and I realise now why this vulnerability at having someone know that they possess your heart never really goes away.
Because in the space of less than ten minutes, you made me feel as though I had fallen off your penthouse apartment, without a voice. And you weren’t going to catch me.
