Saturday 31 August 2013

Yes, Lonely Love

There's your sit. Please, make sure you're sitting comfortably, for this may take a while.
And here's your drink: natural juice of your favourite fruit, 'cause I don't want you to get drunk just yet.
All set? See, I even prepared a box of tissues just in case, you know, get too emotional and can't hold in. 'Cause I'm telling you, darling, tonight is the night. Tonight is the night when I finally strip down this show for you under one single lime light. But it will feel like the footlights are blinding you, 'cause summer is dying and the dress of autumn is rustling like rusty leafs.
So tonight I will let the cat out.
I'm telling you, I'm not the type to just vent out like this, so blame it on the glass screen in between us if you want. Blame it on the stars and on all the words you say - nonsensical, by the way - but that still manage to make me smile even when I'm drowning in the deep waters of my own mind. Blame it on your music taste that I try to understand and catch in between the lines, 'cause you just refuse me the privilege of being that cool and know the name of your favourite band. Blame it on your silence and stares, on your stupid way of contradicting me - stubborn to the bone, I'm telling you.
Blame it on the distance between out fingers when you're not around and blame it on me being foolish enough to fall for you despite knowing I stand no chance, 'cause there you are, all dark and twisted, chuckling in amusement.
Blame this on the bluff I'm secretly playing whenever we talk on Skype, 'cause I'm just that awesome and hide my silly smiles behind emoticons sent only after you're no longer online.
Blame this on the cold water I drank before calling you here, because I have been without you for too long and I was thirty like Sahara without rain for half of year.
Blame this on my eyes that see you crossing your legs while staring right back at me, seeing through my chest and aiming for my poor, poor soul. Really now, you'll be the death of it someday, I know you will.
Blame this on my mouth that twists awkwardly whenever I get a message from you, pulling faces when you can't even see me - I'm low like that, yeah...
Blame it on my stupid and foolish heart that beats like crazy just knowing you're up by now, doing whatever you do early in the morning when normal people sleep.
I see you're getting nervous there, but bear with me for a little while, alright? Dude, I need to gather the left bits of my courage, really now!
I don't understand it either as a matter of fact. I don't get how all of this happened right under my wide opened eyes, when you know and I know that you're one world away every time I reach the circle you run in. I don't understand either what exactly is this 'show' I put for you every time we talk, but I know it can't last forever. I mean, look, summer's almost gone and as much as I hate to say this, autumn will be here in no time. And being serious for a second, we both know our season ain't autumnal or cold. It's fresh and hot, full of sun light and ice tea forgotten on the round table I know you adore. Our season is that when you feel you're drying under the sun, when you walk shirtless after waking up after 2 PM 'cause you stayed up all night bugging me with your nonsense and mean remarks. Our season is that when I hide inside and you just laugh at me from the screen, when I eat nothing but tomatoes because - heck, I want to be pretty when you sneak up from behind the glass and proudly show me your new phone because you're awesome like that and downloaded all the apps on it just to surprise me by sending a message from under the window.
Our season - wait, give me a second here 'cause I feel a feeling being born right under your eyes - our season is that of pictures taken when you sleep, 'cause you hate the camera. Our season  is that of listening to music with the speakers at maximum, dancing in front of the PC, pretending we're there, together.
Oh man, why is this so hard?!
You and I, we haven't known each other for that long, right? It started casually at the beginning of time, with an awkward 'Hey!' and more 'FUCK!-I-almost-spit-on-the-screen' than anything else. It continued - I guess, with a lot of random shit and a broken keyboard. You said you like loneliness and I just shrunk on my chair, thinking you're some sort of lunatic that flew out directly from cuckoo's nest. Then you disappeared from my online list for days and I thought I dreamt. But one evening, there you were again, red like a cherry right on top of my list:
"Hey," your message poked my ears, "I've been shopping for stellar dust till now. Want some?"
Got to tell you, not the most original way of starting a conversation with a girl, but I let it slide since my heart was badum-badum, going like a drum inside my chest.
So, that's how we met. But how on Earth did we manage to keep it going like this over the Stone Age, Middle Age and Modern Times?! 
You filled my head with crazy codes, the strange signs you said you saw in a movie with aliens, while I wrote your profile down. You turned up the music volume in the middle of the talk, while I disappeared under the shower for more than a night. You fed my brain with psychological thrillers while I didn't even let you share my box of tissues during 'The Big Wedding'. You liked dogs while I liked cats - we finally settled for a stupid, white mouse (you still owe me a new couch and new living room furniture, remember?)
What else?
Oh, I hate your random shit playing whenever I open your profile. I hate it so fucking much that I almost broke my PC in two after it remained blocked for almost two hours. I hate your awkward silence 'cause it makes me blabber nonsense and be like, well, you. I hate you being lonely, 'cause it makes me feel powerless. And you know what happened last time you said you're lonely - I took the airplane, rode a bus, hitchhiked, walked 10000000000000 x nth miles and wore a fucking alien suit only to find you eating ice-cream under a palm tree.
And finally, hate that whenever I start saying something serious, you put this glass screen between us and you go blank like you're stoned or something.
Ok, ok, I think I've got it now! Just give a second to - done! It's out, it's out! Listen now well, alright? And tell me what you think, okay? Here I go!

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