Reflecting on a dull Surface.

Well, more than a year has passed since the final leaves fell from our tree, revealing it for what it was. It was dead, if it ever lived at all.

And you always know a sentimental blog post, when it starts with a "well". You can be sentimental about painful things, if you learned to love them somehow. But time truly does heal all wounds, and so now I can sit in the park where I used to walk your dog every day, now with mine. And a long time must have passed, because Raga isn't a puppy any more, she's a slobbering, grunting beast of a dog, pulling branches off trees, and eating rocks. And I've had the time to forge a meaningful and beautiful friendship with her, she's a great friend, considering she eats her own shit. Maybe that's what keeps her modest.

And I can look at the city lights that used to hurt when I saw them, because I could see in my minds eye all the things you used to do under them. But now, they're just city lights. And even though I still feel a twinge at your memory, I have seen so many more city lights since you walked out. Twenty cities all across Europe and North America. More probably, but it's late, you know...

And I've stood in those cities, with the hookers, strippers, dealers, artists, politicians, criminals, power brokers, and regular peoples, and every now and then I remember you. And in that moment, when I picture you brushing your teeth at night, or when I would bathe you, I realise you don't feel far away at all. Like those times are MINE, and I can keep them forever. I can pull them out, dust them off, and smile once every now and then. So despite my harsh words, despite that door closing, I still hold my memories of you very close to my heart. I treasure those, even the hurtful ones. I still loved you then. And it's nice too, because maybe you've never been to Kiev, but now these eyes that reflected you, and this heart that loved you have, and this mind thought a you-shaped shape, so for all the ghosts and phantasms of those places, it would appear you were there, shimmering away in my memory, in your underwear, spitting out toothpaste in the frosty air, with a total absence of steam. I still feel you in my hands.

There is too much I want to do, too much I want to see, too many things I gave up on, when I settled down with you. I still don't regret that, but now I have them back, I won't pass them over so easily next time. I'm no good to anyone, and I'm pretty happy with it. I thought my life was over. But look at that! New rooms, and arrangements of colour, and sounds, and looks, and a brand new junk food tour of America to look forward to soon. I was shocked and impressed to find someone on Myspace I really don't like much has started doing music, and it sounded INCREDIBLE. I like that sort of thing. I guess you can be a creep and have talent. Who knew? It's all inspirational. And suddenly I'm international again, only now I'M playing the music. How did I ever give up on that?! We were a powerful force. We put each other through so much misery, it makes me feel perversely closer to you, like we shared the experience, even though we did it to each other. Like WW1 trench warfare, ceasefire for Christmas, both sides meet in no mans land for cricket. Exactly like that.

And if you're reading this (I don't think you will), I'm sure your thoughts will be harsh. That's okay, they're your thoughts. I remember it was very easy for you to be angry, or to be cold. For your thoughts to point downwards. But I want to set mine free, and we all know the way I do that is to post them up for complete strangers to read, in places I may never go. It may be a sickness, I'm not sure. But I'm glad in my heart at last, truly glad. And these feelings don't mean "come back", or "I can't let go". They mean "good luck!", and "I don't want to let go of everything", because as much as I never knew the real you, and don't know you now, we had us some moments, and they were way too precious to just let them sink in minutes and days and years.

So time has passed, our dogs have grown, we're older and wiser, and I can sit in the park without feeling upset. Wait, I do feel upset, because I don't have anything left to feel upset about. The emptiness is more painful than the pain I used to cling on to. I never thought of emptiness as having spines before.

I send you my love, through the vastness of the internet, the same way I first said hello, across thousands of miles of cables and points, and with that, I am finally free.

Fondest memories. x.