It’s the weekend again, which makes a change from the week but not really, since we are still in COVID times. I find, however hard I try, that I still get left with the same problems on the weekend as I have during the week. Still, it’s the weekend, so it MUST be different. Quite simply, it HAS to be different. That’s why I’ve arranged to meet a friend.
I open my half baked eyes slowly now to nestle fully into the soft arches of his neck. It’s so warm there. I don’t want to get up from there. I never want to get up from there. Still, I have to. MUST. Do. Must do. Must do.
Must.
Do.
As much as I don’t want to get up from there is as much as I don’t want to meet my friend. Still, I decide to meet her anyway because it will take my mind off things in general. I sling some clothes on, half hearted, stuff my self with some snacks to keep the heavier feelings down (for a while, or just the duration of eating, at least), then set off walking, without noticing much, not even myself.
I can see her, waiting for me in the distance – that small blue coated dot on the park horizon:
“How are you?” she says as I pull up, minus snacks now.
“I’m fine,” I say.
I feel like I want to scream inside, like I want to tell the whole world, I am NOT fine. But the world, as usual, stays silent while I carry on screaming, crying on the inside. Despite the state of my insides, I keep on walking, keep on talking. Because I am good at that. Over all these years, i have grown very good at playing parts.
After three hours though my tongue has started to die with my insides. Still, I can’t say no, can’t utter those words: “I must go,” although they have been touching my tongue since the moment we met.
Finally, she ends things, but I don’t jump in a taxi straightaway. Prefer to circle one last time around the park. This time, I don’t have snacks to keep me away, I just have the green of the leaves around, the air all aromatic with their not so subtle scents, the sky rolling gently overhead. Over my head. Over my body. Over mine.
“I feel You, Alice,” I whisper, soft, as the leaves whisper those sounds back to me, softly too.
At last, music to My Ears.
She’s with Me now. Safe now. In arms.
I Am Alice 