Sunday, April 12, 2015

Can I try that again?

Hi.

I Googled myself today, as most professional people do when monitoring their web presence. I've been disconnecting from almost all forms of social media/forums etc that I belonged to lately, somewhere along the line I stopped seeking connection with people. I'm retreating now. I don't know why. I totally know why.

Anyway, I found a link to a newspaper article I hadn't seen before. It quoted this blog, when I was writing some memories about an ex girlfriend. They were just thoughts from that moment, they werren't meant to be repurposed for a newspaper story, and when I read it back it seems so... I don't have the words. I was in shock. I don't want to leave it like that. 

I want to say this.

There's this girl, everyone would say a truly beautiful girl. Not because of makeup, or what labels she's wearing, but rather because her eyes sparkle in a way you only see in old movies when they first invented colour. She's reclining in the seat of her car looking out over the ocean, and she's taking a deep breath and thinking about her life so far. A hose is snaking through the slightly open window from the exhaust pipe, and she's dying. It's the eve of her 30'th birthday, and she's so inured to people judging her on her youth and stunning looks, that despite her grace and intelligence, she can't allow herself to live through one second of her third decade. She's dead now, all alone- the light gone from her eyes forever, like whatever we have for a God changed the video settings for the Universe, and everything just got darker. And if I had found her I would have kissed her dead lips a hundred times and said "I love you" to her dead ears, and squeezed her dead hand; but I didn't find her, and I couldn't do those things, and in a way I'm dead now too, because the girl I loved once is now buried in a hole with a rotten corpse for a body, and I never got to say goodbye. That long blonde hair that used to cascade across my chest, when she used to sleep and listen to my heart beat is full of worms and dirt in the darkness. And I've got so many friends rotting in various holes around the world it's like my heart is made of Lego and each one of them kept a piece, and now I've got maybe two blocks left and I'm fucking tired all the time. It's been nine years since I lost her, and for what it's worth, she's as precious to me now as she was back then. And that's all we can do, is remember our people, because we're not the ones who made history. We're just the quiet ones who died in our cars on the beach in November. 

I know you can't hear me, but I love you Zoe. That's the closest I can get to a goodbye.