A Weekend Sound Track node
<- Warm sunlight and a short nap | The Long Dark Teatime Of The Soul ->
Last night, we came in way too late and went to sleep with the curtains open. You were lost immediately. I stayed awake a little while and watched the first light of dawn
seep through, before falling asleep too.
In your apartment, the sun shines right into the bedroom in the afternoon. It’s glaring now, cold and white against a crisp January sky. Everything looks bleached in this light. Except you of course. You seem to be the only colour in the room. Your hair glistens bright in the sunlight. Your eyes are smudged with the kohl you were too drunk to take off last night. Your mouth still has some of that silver lipstick I try really hard to pretend to like.
I trace a line down the brown skin of your arm with my finger and allow it to linger on your hands a little while. Your hands are so small and delicate, like a child’s. Your expression is child-like too, innocent and vulnerable. You’ve told me stories about yourself that made me cry, stories of black abject horror. You’re older than me and you’ve got more scars. But right now, you seem like a little girl again. You seem happy.
I move for the first time since I’ve woken up. I lift my head a little and gently place a kiss on your left cheek. You begin to move. Your eyes still closed, you roll onto your back, placing your wrist on your forehead. “Baby,” you say softly, “I think I drank too much last night.”
“Does your head hurt?”
You nod slowly, eyes still shut.
“Do you want a cup of tea?”
You nod with a bit more enthusiasm. I think I even see a little smile breaking out at the corner of your mouth.
“Do you want anything else?”
Suddenly you roll over and, with your eyes closed, hug me with bone-crushing strength. “Yoooooooooouuuuu.” You press your mouth to mine for a second and then open your eyes for the first time that morning, just a slit, staring out at me with that tired smile of yours. You sigh heavily.
“I was so drunk last night. I’m ashamed.”
You’re not. I know you. “Well, makes a change from you having to look after me.”
“That’s right. You drunken bastard.”
I smile and kiss you again, soft but lingering. You stare and me and whisper, “I love you.” I don’t say anything. You already know.
“I’m stinky,” you say. “I’m going for a shower.” I watch you totter off to the bathroom, your hair a wild mane. You give the bathroom door a defiant kick behind you, and I hear the water start up. Water makes you feel better than anything else in the world. You’ll emerge in a few minutes and sit in bed, your hair all wet, your skin clammy and cold, drinking tea. Then we’ll slide back down the bed and lie there for ages. Until we get hungry – around six. Mmm, Simpsons and pizza, a day of vegetation.
Oh, my love, you encounter a narcotic apathy in me. Why should I care about the outside world when I could be with you, feeling your skin against mine, looking into your eyes as you speak in your soft honeyed drawl? Nothing could be worth a moment away from you.
I pull on some clothes so I won’t scare your flatmates, and head out to the kitchen. I put the kettle on. As it boils, I stand at the sink and stare out at the Garden. It’s almost 4pm now, but there’s still dew on the grass. In fact, it’s icy dew. It must be freezing out there. I’m glad to be inside.
I am glad to be inside. I look at the archway leading into the apartment complex. I walked you there every night for two months, and every night you said you loved me, but it wouldn’t be right to bring me past the arch. Then one night you said, it’s right. And I’ve barely left here since.
When I was growing up, I read books and watched movies in which pure, uncompromising love exist. Two people drop the pointless human barriers between themselves. I thought it was a myth. I thought I was some sort of monster before you, who could never feel anything except loathing and selfishness.
You changed that. You’ve made me a cliché; all the colours of the world seem brighter, life seems less consequential. I am utterly unable to stop smiling. I am in love and nothing will ever be the same again. Even if I never see you again, even if you tear my heart out from my chest and make me bitter and angry and hateful, it will not be able to change one essential thing which is that I know that love is real because I have seen it with my own eyes. And it’s more than I had ever dreamed it could be.
I make two cups of tea, and hurry back to bed, so that I can be waiting for you when you get out of the shower.
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- Badly Drawn Boy - The Shining (5:01)
- Mark Eitzel - When My Plane Finally Goes Down (4:16)
- Jeff Buckley - Morning Theft (3:39)
- Gene - Olympian
- Elvis Costello - Forgive Her Anything (3:11)
- The Sundays - Skin & Bones (4:16)
- Nick Cave - Are You The One That I've Been Waiting For? (4:06)
- Suede - The Wild Ones (4:50)
- Placebo - Dark Globe (2:13)
- Tom Waits - Martha (4:28)
- Tindersticks - Travelling Light (4:43)
- Verve - On Your Own (3:33)
- Belle & Sebastian - We Rule The School (3:27)
- Billie Holiday - All Of Me (3:03)