so your brother is going to cambridge. we went over there with congratulations: chocolates and a card, as you do, because i’m proud of him. though not as proud as i am of you. you deserve something like that so much more and i think we both know that.
looking back now, do you remember the day we were waiting for our results to appear on the screen of the computer? the tears and awfulness of that day? the sitting on the grass in the field near your house, later, the weather lukewarm, sun popping in and out of the clouds? because i remember. you got your grades but i didn’t. one mark away from getting into the right university, one mark away from solidifying myself away from you.
i knew then that something wanted us to be together – who knows what would have happened if i went somewhere else? knowing me, you would be a memory. knowing you, you’d hate me for that.
how poignant it all is, looking back. but i don’t regret a thing. whatever will be will be and all that was makes us who we are now. i sit here now, wrapped in a towel, readying myself for an evening out with you (tenessee williams’ “sweet bird of youth” at the old vic), and wonder if i would be this happy had something else occurred?
what if i’d got the grades, what if you didn’t, what if some force of nature ripped the fabric of us?
and i wonder, if we knew the future if we’d have done it all again.
i know the child in you. the one which craves the praise from the lips it longs to kiss. and yet the child cannot accept it, for the twinge of sarcasm ibmursed in the words.
and then you long for the acceptance of your mother, father, brother: their words of praise, like mine, cherished but disbelieved.
what of it? one must live for something.
you live for praise.
i live for love.
the english boy’s resurfaced. just like i predicted, him and the girl broke up. now, he is moving on. moving on me, maybe, but i reckon just moving on to the world. today, he approached me three times. and every time, i bat away his advances with a smile on my face. why should i contemplate burning for him if i am the candle of your life?
too many lives, too many stories and there will be no more parafin, no more wax, no more light. i am aware of that.
i lived through life before you.
now i know it’s enough to burn for you so let S burn for me.
and let the whole world ignite for me. for this love, this kiss, as it opens its bud of sunshine every morning on your lips.
Posted in chapters of my life
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