Dear you,

It is December now. In one of my letters I said 'In December it will have been way too long. In December it will have been not long enough. [...] Let's speak again soon.' And we did, but not enough. Now that paradox has begun, when the closer you get to something, the further away it seems. Or the slower time goes. There are only a few days left. I feel giddy with excitement about seeing you. I feel sick with nerves about seeing you. Yesterday my train couldn't leave the platform because of the weather. There was a snowstorm and strong winds. I was sitting right by the door, and the cold air was flowing in all around me. After about an hour or two, I moved to the window seat, which made me a lot warmer. But I spent hours sitting there in the freezing cold. I think this is easy to understand if you know me well. Which of course you do. This made me think, my identity has stopped in time, and another one has formed, running in parallel slightly. My worry is that when I return, these two identities will converge, but it won't be good. And of course, for everyone who saw me last, I am still that person from 18 months ago. They have not seen my new boots, shoes, etc. They do not know how I smell these days. I guess it has happened for all of you in my head as well. It is not like when we went away for 3 months and saw all of those beautiful things, mountains called cloud kisser and the like, and we came back and tried to explain. It has been much longer, and it has been even longer between you and I. I almost counted just then, but I don't want to. Do you understand? It could be easy to reduce this to numbers and statistics, but I do not want to. Almost a week of Taylor Swift in a year. 321 plays of Watermelon Sugar. These tell us nothing. What I am trying to say is, do you miss me? No, that is not what I am trying to say. What I am trying to say is, maybe tomorrow will be easier. That is not it either. What I am trying to say is, what I'm trying to say is, what I'm trying to say is. I am sorry, I really must go now. I'll see you soon, and I hope I don't cry. That's a nice idea, I guess.

- A

Dear you,

It seems like my brain isn’t working today, which makes everything harder to understand. I am pushing against the inside of a cube that I am stuck in, but the sides aren’t moving. Like I said once, I zipped myself up in the sleeping back of myself, but inside it wasn’t a nice place either. It’s kind of like that, although I don’t think I brought the six walls in on myself. I am quite used to looking at square shapes, or rectangles, in my zoom classes. They look so small when you click ‘gallery view’, but you can see so much life in those shapes. I always wonder what is happening right on the outside of the shapes, but you can never see, unless someone moves their laptop screen and the camera moves as well. It rains a lot in this city, so when the sun comes out, it feels like it’s time to celebrate. Although, whenever I see blue skies I just think of the opportunities I am missing by being inside. It’s cold out there today but it does look nice. This apartment is just one big room with one door, and that feels like another layer of sides of the cube which I am pushing against. 

Dear you,

Do you remember when you fell asleep on our brand new bed? I feel scared about moving to that new place, but I don’t know why. Sometimes I think that everything I see or do is doomed. Sometimes I think that the doom just lines itself up with the seasons, so it only ever lasts for six months at a time. I am not sure how this fits with some of my past mistakes. Those started in the summertime. But maybe that’s just a nice time of year to fall in love. When I look at old pictures of myself I feel so embarrassed, mainly about the clothes I decided to wear. I have made so many mistakes, and it’s so easy for me to shut them away, when I should speak them out loud. What was it that Cedric said? That he’d spoken to Joey who said people had told her you didn’t like her? How come it can be so complicated when it could be so simple. Time feels like it’s running out but it always does when you write a letter. Things change when we write things on the computer, or with our phones. Have you ever not been able to sleep because you were waiting for a reply? I am sure you haven’t because you seem to fall asleep so easily. But I remember a time when I was in a different time zone and I received a message during the night. It was one of the worst nights of my life. That was a time in my life where I cried so much. There have been several times in my life when I have cried so much. I think what I am trying to say is, is that time coming again? No, that is not what I am trying to say. What I am trying to say is hello to someone I used to be. Or someone I used to know. Who knew that instant coffee was so disgusting, who knew that I would still drink it all these years later. I wrote a love letter to my friend but she ripped it up in front of my face. Now things are never the same even though I stuck all of the pieces back together. How will it be when I see her again? Who will I be then? I am worried about that and so many other things. In December it will have been way too long. In December it will have been not long enough. Time is running out, let’s speak again soon. A nice idea, I guess.

- A 

 

i poured cold water into a cup of instant coffee
before adding the boiling –

                                                how long had it been?

would the blossom on the trees take your sincerest apologies?

would the graze on your knee know what it had done?

would reading stories about friendship make you feel strange

or the ones where the lines were blurred pained?

the coffee of course tasted disgusting. 

cycling to work

I thought about writing a new poem for you
I thought about the terra incognita I'd travelled to with you
I thought about the poems I'd written in Portugal about being half awake and half asleep
I thought about being half present when cycling uphill to work and seeing two dead moths on the side of the road within five seconds
I thought about climate change, if the moths had been killed by the cars
I thought about you and I battling through the elements to get to work and how that was a metaphor for so much more
I thought about the new cyclists on the road now the mornings were light and warm
I thought about sea levels rising and what you'll look like when you're pregnant
I thought about early nights and lie ins in our new house
I thought about playing with your hair and how much you like it
I thought about how different the world looks now
I thought about how that could be ambiguous but what I mean is the whole earth taking a new shape and being carved by the bigger picture happening above our heads and below our feet and around us
I thought about how different the world would look in 20 years time but I also thought about how some things might look the same, your hair still between my fingers, your cheekbones still protruding at the same angle
I thought about fishing nets catching things they can't sell and throwing these dead animals back in the sea
I thought about waking up next to you and you waking up next to me

some new things began to make me feel sick like:
the word boyfriend or stories from the past
but also
sentences written in swedish and gaining four more vowels.

the word klimatförändring made me feel nauseous,
that picture of ice in Greenland covered in blue water,
the thought of all of it coming and washing us away
while I was too busy obsessing over the sweeping sensation of jealousy in my chest to register the sea water seeping up around my shoes.

do I not watch the news? do I not listen to you?

from March 2019

S P R I N G

(click to view)

my life changed so drastically in the last few years - didn’t they all for all of us reaching the perceived perfection of the mid to end twenties but
Hear me out please you need to hear
There became a time where I needed the noise of the television to distract my thoughts
There became a time where I needed the noise of the radio to help me sleep at night and now

I don’t know
I’m turning thirty what do I need I need
You here next to me I need
Your voice in my ear I need songs from my phone to drown out the drone I’m sick

Of waiting I’m done with trying I’m full to the brim of all that shit - we’re not trying!!! - I need I don’t need radio I need I don’t need tele I need I need I need you

I woke up an hour earlier than I needed to today. Looked out of the window. Sky was grey. When you say you're falling in love, what do you mean? That the plants, trees and animals suddenly convey more? That bus rides you take riding by the window warm your heart like never before? I want you to look out of the window and think of me. I want to be the window, seat, floor, handrails, the stop button you press. I want to be the bus stop where you get on and the bus stop where you get off. I want to be the pavement you step on, the tyres on the road I want to be the hankie you use when you blow your nose. I want to be yours: now, tomorrow, in ten years time. I want to look at you and see you shine.