Ghosts and Stuff

Dear Stranger,

I barely think of you now. When I do, the twisted ghost of 'If' walks through me and I struggle with the after taste, a fleeting heatwave of regret. But then he passes and I take a step forward, a step away from you. You were a distorted Doctor at the wrong place in the wrong time. Then again, who am I to decide? Still, the phonebox always stood fingertips away and I’ve made my peace with your vanishing act. They always do, you know.

If I could talk to you the only thing I’d say is thank you. You spent months trying to get behind my mask but now I’m wall-less without a watchman. Turns out I like it this way. It's the most comfortable I’ve felt in my skin in a while and surprisingly other people seem to like it too. I’m still treading softly but my dreams have laid down their defense mechanisms and I’m choosing to trust more easily, lie less lightly, be more grateful. I trust people. I thought you were the last Samurai but guess what, there was always an army of them waiting for these walls to come down. You've been really brave though. You blocked me out to save yourself a long time ago and you were strong enough to stick to it. You were strong enough to move when we were stuck. These new age Samurais, all they do is smoke pot and charmingly disseminate theories. It makes me worry about the size of their hearts. I never worried about the size of your heart.

Thank you for teaching me how to be human. It didn’t happen when you wanted it to, it happened now, without warning. I cry now, I feel, I listen and I laugh from deep down inside me because I’ve opened up a heart shaped box in the split of my spine and it’s going to stay.

Thank you for letting me go. In all honesty, I hated you for it. I still do. I don’t think I will ever forgive you. I always believed everything you said and you promised you would never leave. You promised a lot of things but this was the only thing I was completely sure you’d stay faithful to. You broke that promise which means you are no longer you. The person I knew was tirelessly self righteous and annoying as fuck about it. Surprisingly it’s the one thing I miss.

You were the best person I knew and I try to save snapshots but it’s fading so fast that sometimes I wonder if we ever really happened, if you were really such a huge part of my day, if we were so happy it hurt. We were, you know. My voice would change when I talked to you and you were always like the first drag of a third smoke – you expect the high but it hits you anyway.

Lastly, I’m sorry. This is a dead letter and even if you read it, it’s not for you. It’s for someone who died a month ago. I’m leaving you now and I will never come back. There’s nothing to come back to. Funnily enough, despite the drama, I doubt I would have ever really left you. You dominated my day and life just happened in between. Remember, diaries don’t talk back and the minute you chose to shut down you let yourself be my diary. I was a ghost here and I know I fought you like a fiend but it’s scary, okay, to be loved and to be in love with someone so effortlessly fucked over by geography.

The story of us is special. You always remember you first kiss, your first pair of green pants and the first girl who cried and slapped you because she realized she was in love with you. We’re closing this chapter so I’m going to do something I really want to. I’m going to give you a hug. Stranger, ex, boyfriend, friend, person, I don’t care. This is a hug from a girl to a boy and it’s yours for whenever you need it, okay?

So Stranger, if the angels still have the phonebox you could turn to stone. Don’t blink. Look away.

Stay safe.

Niv.

The Other Side of Sunlight

"That's so fucking cute man, can you do it again?”

“No.”

Sunlight. Someone’s already having a conversation with the jukebox and we’ve misplaced our symmetry a while ago. It’s the final Wednesday and our inhibitions stretch out under the table as we lower our necklines and raise our voices. I find my girls in the chaos but fail to lose my drinking face. You pick up on it faster than I can control. We spot a random, decide he’s Frazer’s snoop dog and cheers to Jai Hind. We drink to Rags boobs. We drink to growing up. We drink to having no future. I know what you’re upto but just this once, I let it go. Still, I catch you smirking.

“You didn’t cut your hair off,” you say accusatorily.

“I’d look like an alien.”

“No, you wouldn’t.”

“Would.”

“Show me.”

I’m high enough to make a fool of myself so I pull back my hair and you choke on your drink. This means war. I leave you for the dark side of Sunlight and like a hero I run across the bench, bang my head on the big ugly tv and pose for a picture. When I come back to you, I’m wincing and there’s a small gash next to my hairline. You take one look at my face, plunge your hand into the ice bucket, wrap cubes in tissue and hand it to me. I’m laughing. You check for a bump but I tell you I’m fine. They’re playing ‘Time of your life’ by Greenday and everyone sings it with full feel. When I look at you, you learn forward and brush my cheek with your thumb.

“That’s ice water.”

“I thought you were crying.”

We're so young and beautiful. The energy we play with is brighter than this room and I want to stay here forever. Drunk, on edge and spilling over with stars.

There’s magic everywhere and magically, obviously we’ve been caught in its web. I feel real but this feeling, it’s called growing up and just for a minute I wish it would give it a rest.

Just so I can go home and mull things over.

Instead I shrug off my old cape for Sky.

Dramaturgy

I'm sitting in college under the arches, the cold in my bones, chai curdling my veins and like a ninja you spring out, grab me and say, 'I just got kicked out of class, we're going for a smoke.'

I don't even like the smoke guy. But it's cold and you look pissed as hell so I follow.

I don't really know you but then again my mind has always been mutinously myopic and I never map friends of friends because the coordinates get too difficult to control.

We run outside and I say all the right things about attendance. We cross, you save me from a speeding car and I fight the urge to laugh at how easy it is for boys to play Superman.

The smoke guy doesn't sell to girls under a fail misconception that it will save us so you buy me a menthol and mint without even asking. I bite back surprise, you remembered

The pavement calls to me and when I sit down you don't hesitate. This is what I absolutely love about boys, they see nothing wrong with getting dirty.

'I like your name.'

'I hate it. My brother and sister are named after Gods, and I'm named after someone who worships God. Yay.'

'So you're real.'

I blow smoke spirals and ask you about your city, about change, about acid and alienation. You tell me stories instead. I curl up and let your voice do the talking so in time I can spell out the subtext, the rasps, the curves, the connotations. It's different. When you look at me, I pick up where you left off and you listen.

We're three smokes down, I'm on a roll about subjectivity and robots, the real world, happiness, the Beatles, Bombay secrets, painting people, the mafia, and you're still listening. I'm not thinking.

We count yellow cars and you laugh at all the right places. I'm wearing an ancient sweatshirt, no kajal and a very strategic coffee stain. I look like a 5 year old but you don't seem to care.

'I don't like her.' I say pointedly about someone walking past, on our fourth trip to the smoke guy.

'Why baba?'

'I don't know, bad vibes?'

'But do you know her?'

'Aww yeah you're one of those no judgement, acid has broken all the walls in my head types.'

'Acid is for safe places and unless you know someones story you can't play their game, right?'

'So its an endless circle of grey areas? I know what you're getting at but sometimes its easier being pissed off and juvenile. To judge and jail. The vicious circle. I don't want to go around giving chances,' I'm holding my breath so I turn away breathing out slowly.

You watch me for a bit then say something completely unexpected,

'Punch me.'

'You're insane.'

I watch you watching me and this could turn into one of those viral video games on pause so I punch your palms until they turn red.

You're stronger than I thought.

When I'm done you give me a real hug, chin to head, toe to toe, your forearms fighting the warmth into me.

Only strangers trust in tandem.

When we cross the road back to college you literally pull me forwards by the scruff of my neck to escape an errant driver.

'Ay man, why do you keep saving me?'

'Because I can.'

Hello stranger

(But you didn't have to cut me out

Make out like it never happened and that we were nothing

I don't even need your love, but you treat me like a stranger

And that feels so rough)

I dream about you every night. Last night you called me from your mothers phone and when I answered you made fun of my hello and begged me to come back. (My mother wouldn't like you, you'd said. I'd shrugged, the fact that you didn't like me making me indestructible) I wake up and the sky is blue again. I step out of bed (I hate my bed, I spent endless nights there making shadow animals with your voice in the background), wink at the mirror and then it hits me. (I'm over you. You forced me to like someone else. I wanted to throw up when you'd said that but you didn't care enough to see me weak. You wouldn't even stay to watch me leave) I double up fighting to breathe the pain like Tyler Durdens fist through my ribcage. Breathe breathe breathe, I tell myself, you're going to be fine. (That's a lie) I sleepwalk through a really bad omelette my dad made for me (Shanti's on holiday and home doesn't feel like home) he tries to add salt but I snap so hard I almost bite his fork off. I shower and pull on an ancient tshirt, my FY jeans and leave, my hair still in its post shower ponytail. (I look barely human, you'd love it) There's traces of kajal but I feel like a refugee, my eyes lighter, my heart heavier. Thank god for sweatshirts. My class smiles at me but leaves me alone. I think sometimes, I exude grief. (I'm a stranger that smells like me) What scares me is that no one would notice the difference. (Only you knew me no no no that's not true I have friends but there are days when all I want to do is call you and cry about a boy who broke my heart)(stop it, don't go there)

I've been holding my breath now for 22 days and counting. People tell me it will get easier with time (they're lying) they tell me it was my fault (its true) but what I don't tell them is that all the time we were together I detached as many time as the black keys on a piano, so I'd be ready for this eventuality. (I am enough)(You're lying) I always told myself I didn't need you, I had my people I had my places I was on my own planet, you were just an alien. (How easily we convince ourselves that we're safe) Somewhere, somehow, something went horribly wrong. You believed me and here I am unable to believe it myself. (Fuck) Its heartbreaking. (Let it go let it go it's going to be fine) I spent months trying not be emotionally dependent on you I guess I got over my robot phase because all I feel now is hurt and its the rawest kind. I don't want anyone else. (He comforted me one night though and that turned into something else but the entire time all I could think of was it hurts more now. It was sweet but the aftertaste made me retch)(What a stupid little girl)(She's just scared) I would give anything for you to call me sing talk about some show you've been watching hyper as shit take my case get worked up over imaginary threats soothe me in that psuedo posh voice of yours where we dissect life theories and give me more attention than my parents ever did. I miss you. (I know you miss me) I used to know you. I don't anymore. Now you look the same and smell the same but I can't touch you. I won't call you because I'm scared you'll disappoint me and find out I'm not as special as I used to be. You can't expect this to come easily. (I spend minutes every hour holding myself together)(I will not cry)(You're not angry, you're not sad, you're scared. You're scared you've lost someone special and when you're old enough to know better you're scared you'll never forgive yourself)

But if there's anything you taught me is that I'm prettier with my walls down so next time round I'm going to walk in fearless, but it won't be for you. You're going to get a white wall because I don't know what you're thinking anymore. You can't love someone unconditionally then make way for someone else.

If a tree falls in a forest and no one is around to hear it, does it make a sound?

I don't need you to tell me I exist.

I exist.

You were my pet, now you're a person, but I was never a tree.

(Now you're just somebody that I used to know)