The Tunisian Pearl
It's 3 am, far past my bed time and I'm here behind my desk sitting on top of nations attempting to unite, in some god forsaken country writing my resignation letter. I can feel the panic tremble down the corridors, theres a security threat and we've just been hit it'll probably take New York two weeks to get us out of here. It's ok though I've got my office door locked a draw full of twinkies and memories of yesteryear to keep me company. This world of diplomacy isn't for me, I'm not into saving lives.
In this moment of clarity, I've gotten to swallowing my pride with the aid of sleep deprivation and the callus disregard for the rule of law. The ipods playing through all my favourite tracks and I cant but help remember the lines of her face, the tiny freckles scattered on her nose and the galaxy beyond her diamond eyes. She didn't even ask if it was ok to take my breath away.
I remember the collapse of our hands finding their natural way and feeling like the softest thing ever, so right I could of held on for eons. Her lips tasted like the end or how I imagined the end to taste like, her kisses weren't mine to keep and each one bled my broken heart as our expiry date passed. Our bodies tangled with the thought of our future flashing by, words where obsolete. I sat there in awe of her mind, an intellectual crush, a girl who'd cry if she got mediocre marks, a girl who transcended through her appearance with a glow so bright I'm sure you could see her high above from the Death Star. In those very moments I appreciated her in all her ways.
I traced the lines of her face and told her how much I loved her in my mind, only if she was a mind reader, she would have known. I loved the Tunisian Pearl, so much so that I couldn't hold her ransom by my words, if you love them you let them go. I bit my lip and sunk my tongue and couldn't utter the three words of our demise, I lov… . I was a crumbling mess inside, standing on the verge of insecurity at 21 looking over the edge and wondering why now, when I had nothing to show.
If I was the selfish type I would have told her how I loved her, but I guess I believe in the freedom of choice, and her choice was to pass me by.. probably for a boy with a Porsche and abs of steel with a jaw so chiselled you could brake blocks on it, but I bet none of them would have seen the girl that I saw. I did all that I could do, I kissed her on the forehead and walked away.
They say you don't forget your first love and this isn't half the story, and I guess you don't, even at 3 am in a foreign land contemplating an exit strategy.
I'm not sure what I meant to her, but she meant the world to me.