EverythingsEventual
Ex-Bluelighter
He came to see me in my sleep again last night. .
I was standing on Portobello beach, just along from the arcades, where I could hear the rattle-rattle of the fruit machines and smell the greased air of the fast-food franchise.
Sometimes this place seems dead, gone to seed, a pleasant memory long forgotten. For the visitors that once roamed this promenade have moved onto bigger things, better things, life. The children are no longer eating chips with impossibly red sauce, because the chip-shop shut down. The lovers do not splash each other with the waters, for they are long polluted with the dirt of a thousand city-dwellers.
I crouch on the sand and pick up a mis-shapen shell, covered in barnacles. Something that was once beautiful has now been tainted by nature itself. But I still think it’s pretty. I’ll put it with the rest.
He appears as if by magick behind me, carrying with him the book, the book of my life.
“So… here we are again” he says, with an air of impatience.
He stands about an inch taller than me, with murky blonde hair, and impossibly green eyes.
“You know I’ve been waiting so long for this, Jen”
“Me too. I can’t figure out why I didn’t do this earlier”
The wind whipped at my hair, blowing it into a birds nest, all peaks and horns.
I stumble over a piece of driftwood, lose my footing, and land on my backside in the damp sand. The dampness seeps through my jeans and soaks me to the bone.
He hesitates.
“Do you think that you’ll actually do it this time?”
I start to fidget with my barnacle-shell and avoid his gaze.
Is this the right thing to do? Wouldn’t life be easier if I carried on the way I am? If I don’t let go, that means I don’t have to move on, and if I don’t move on… then I don’t have to admit I was wrong.
“I don’t know boy, I really don’t know. I WANT to… but I don’t know if I CAN. It’s difficult, starting again. If I let you go then it means you’re really gone. If I don’t do this, then you’ll always be there even if it’s just in my head.”
“Girl, you’re going to have to let go. It's been at least a year... Life moves so fast… and you’re standing at the passing place, watching it all drift past. Nothing is going to change unless you let yourself be open to it. Just because this didn’t work out, doesn’t mean that you were to blame. We could both point the finger, make claims and excuses, but if we do things this way… we’re both free from blame. We were what each other needed for that space in time… now that time is over…”
He trailed off.
I walked further down the beach, to where the waves meet the sand, and I’m aware of my trainers being soaked.
“You know, if you’re not careful, you’re going to end up with contaminated trainers!”
“Very funny boy, I’m sure I’ll cope, I just remember how bad your feet smelled!”
I smile fondly.
Realising we’re wasting valuable time, I reach for his hand. Take it between mine.
“I know this isn’t important to you, but I have to say it. Thank you. I wish I could have been the love of your life, yours forever, but it wasn’t meant to be that way. I won’t ever forget the lessons we learned, or how I learned to believe in myself. I thought I’d die without you. But I’m still here. I’m ok. I loved you… I still love you. But I love you for letting me go. I don’t hate you for hurting me anymore. What you did was selfish in a way, but the most generous thing you could have done in another.”
He drops my book. Grabs my hands and pulls me to him. Wraps his arms around me, puts his hands on the small of my back, like he always did. I wrap my arms round his neck and rest my head on his shoulder, like I always did.
His arms seem to grow tighter and tighter, until he’s making it hard for me to breathe. It feels like my ribcage is going to snap. Then suddenly, he lets go, and picks up the book of my life. Wipes the sand from the tear-stained cover.
As I walk towards the ocean, I feel him walking a few steps behind me, and when we reach my chosen spot we stop. He puts a hand on my shoulder, and whispers in my ear. Then stands back, hands engulfed in his jeans pockets.
I hold the book aloft and shout.
“This is mine. Nobody else’s. I will love again, but I cannot place my life, my happiness in the hands of another. It’s an impossible task. I will be loved for being me and I will remember the lessons I have learnt.”
Suddenly the cold sea breeze wraps around my heart, and my stomach rolls. I drop the book. It flutters open, suddenly some of the pages are ripping themselves out, and I’m running after them trying to catch them to put them back. But they’re gone. Disintegrating in the rain and damp sand.
Sinking to my knees, I gently pick up my book, and hug it to my heart.
Turning around, I open my mouth to say thank you, and the breeze wraps around my heart again.
He’s gone.
All the time I thought he was behind me, I was alone. All the time I thought he was guiding me… I did it on my own.
Suddenly, I realise, there’s a message drawn in the sand, right along the beach. I run to the beginning and work my way along to the end.
I smile, and lean down to the sand, drawing a symbol of my own. The infinity symbol.
The message?
What he whispered in my ear before he disappeared.
“Magick happens…”
I was standing on Portobello beach, just along from the arcades, where I could hear the rattle-rattle of the fruit machines and smell the greased air of the fast-food franchise.
Sometimes this place seems dead, gone to seed, a pleasant memory long forgotten. For the visitors that once roamed this promenade have moved onto bigger things, better things, life. The children are no longer eating chips with impossibly red sauce, because the chip-shop shut down. The lovers do not splash each other with the waters, for they are long polluted with the dirt of a thousand city-dwellers.
I crouch on the sand and pick up a mis-shapen shell, covered in barnacles. Something that was once beautiful has now been tainted by nature itself. But I still think it’s pretty. I’ll put it with the rest.
He appears as if by magick behind me, carrying with him the book, the book of my life.
“So… here we are again” he says, with an air of impatience.
He stands about an inch taller than me, with murky blonde hair, and impossibly green eyes.
“You know I’ve been waiting so long for this, Jen”
“Me too. I can’t figure out why I didn’t do this earlier”
The wind whipped at my hair, blowing it into a birds nest, all peaks and horns.
I stumble over a piece of driftwood, lose my footing, and land on my backside in the damp sand. The dampness seeps through my jeans and soaks me to the bone.
He hesitates.
“Do you think that you’ll actually do it this time?”
I start to fidget with my barnacle-shell and avoid his gaze.
Is this the right thing to do? Wouldn’t life be easier if I carried on the way I am? If I don’t let go, that means I don’t have to move on, and if I don’t move on… then I don’t have to admit I was wrong.
“I don’t know boy, I really don’t know. I WANT to… but I don’t know if I CAN. It’s difficult, starting again. If I let you go then it means you’re really gone. If I don’t do this, then you’ll always be there even if it’s just in my head.”
“Girl, you’re going to have to let go. It's been at least a year... Life moves so fast… and you’re standing at the passing place, watching it all drift past. Nothing is going to change unless you let yourself be open to it. Just because this didn’t work out, doesn’t mean that you were to blame. We could both point the finger, make claims and excuses, but if we do things this way… we’re both free from blame. We were what each other needed for that space in time… now that time is over…”
He trailed off.
I walked further down the beach, to where the waves meet the sand, and I’m aware of my trainers being soaked.
“You know, if you’re not careful, you’re going to end up with contaminated trainers!”
“Very funny boy, I’m sure I’ll cope, I just remember how bad your feet smelled!”
I smile fondly.
Realising we’re wasting valuable time, I reach for his hand. Take it between mine.
“I know this isn’t important to you, but I have to say it. Thank you. I wish I could have been the love of your life, yours forever, but it wasn’t meant to be that way. I won’t ever forget the lessons we learned, or how I learned to believe in myself. I thought I’d die without you. But I’m still here. I’m ok. I loved you… I still love you. But I love you for letting me go. I don’t hate you for hurting me anymore. What you did was selfish in a way, but the most generous thing you could have done in another.”
He drops my book. Grabs my hands and pulls me to him. Wraps his arms around me, puts his hands on the small of my back, like he always did. I wrap my arms round his neck and rest my head on his shoulder, like I always did.
His arms seem to grow tighter and tighter, until he’s making it hard for me to breathe. It feels like my ribcage is going to snap. Then suddenly, he lets go, and picks up the book of my life. Wipes the sand from the tear-stained cover.
As I walk towards the ocean, I feel him walking a few steps behind me, and when we reach my chosen spot we stop. He puts a hand on my shoulder, and whispers in my ear. Then stands back, hands engulfed in his jeans pockets.
I hold the book aloft and shout.
“This is mine. Nobody else’s. I will love again, but I cannot place my life, my happiness in the hands of another. It’s an impossible task. I will be loved for being me and I will remember the lessons I have learnt.”
Suddenly the cold sea breeze wraps around my heart, and my stomach rolls. I drop the book. It flutters open, suddenly some of the pages are ripping themselves out, and I’m running after them trying to catch them to put them back. But they’re gone. Disintegrating in the rain and damp sand.
Sinking to my knees, I gently pick up my book, and hug it to my heart.
Turning around, I open my mouth to say thank you, and the breeze wraps around my heart again.
He’s gone.
All the time I thought he was behind me, I was alone. All the time I thought he was guiding me… I did it on my own.
Suddenly, I realise, there’s a message drawn in the sand, right along the beach. I run to the beginning and work my way along to the end.
I smile, and lean down to the sand, drawing a symbol of my own. The infinity symbol.
The message?
What he whispered in my ear before he disappeared.
“Magick happens…”
