weekend drama

all relationships are hard work. relationships that define themselves as 'not-relationships' are particularly hard. the experiment exists beyond a model, so when things go askew there's no fallback position. there's no default setting. there's just me and him having awkward conversations in the dark. there's misunderstandings. there's the surfacing of words said that i'd forgotten. words that resonated for him. words heard differently. and so we twist them around and pass them back and forth, endlessly.

after dinner, when we're alone, the temperature drops. he's making the bed. he's showering. he's busying himself. i'm laying on the bed, unable to find words to disrupt this awkward drama.

lights are out. his voice is unsteady. there's anger there. there's a slow undressing of all our insecurities, hesitations, dilemmas. i fall asleep and wake in an empty flat. disorientation. it's impossible not to feel alone when you're alone in this flat. he's never not here. his phone is there, his wallet too, but no him.

a few hours later (or minutes), there's me and him and more words. there's me staring at those curtains - cream with brown lines - moving in the breeze. and i think this is the last time i'll look at these curtains from this bed. this is my last time here; with that thought, i drink it in. mostly i stare at the curtains that dance freely in the breeze. the only movement, as we lay still amongst our words.

hours (or minutes) pass until we're holding each other again. i lay on top of him and kiss his lips. he says 'it's about time'. we take to each other like starving animals. few words now, just other sounds as we travel in and out of each other. the curtains probably still dance, but who cares. i'm no longer planning my exit. i'm somewhere else and it's not a place i can describe easily. except to say it's nice. and i stay there for the rest of this day, even now, at home, alone (but so not alone).

before we leave his flat i try to push him into the hallway in his underwear. he says i'm mean. i say 'if you love me you'll walk into the hallway naked'. he says 'but i don't love you.' exactly. and this is what it feels like to not be alone.