S. is for Stranger…

A post from the past, translated – January 2013

We talked everyday; conventionally. Frozen looks hiding insurmountable chemistry. I could never convince my body to get up from the chair and go home. The clock stopped when our eyes met; and if we were close, it never mattered what we said, if we said anything…

But then we met, like I’d never dared to dream; him and I, alone and unashamed. He smiled, the look in his eyes turning page after page of me, re-writing history. And I knew then I’d always carry his smile, curious and sweet, sealed in my heart.

I couldn’t breathe when I got home. I couldn’t breathe for days after; I would still feel his fingers on my back and my skin ached. My ears ringed, exhaustingly replaying the whispers.

My hands still shake when I type in my email, terrified of his silence. The clock doesn’t stop anymore and I wonder how long I have left until doom.

How I wish I could be yours. The way I was no one’s before…


Goodbye, B.

After so many years, you called. That part of me hadn’t hurt in a while, but I welcome the pain, it’s warm.

I hadn’t thought of you in years. Perhaps the last time I really did was when I landed in Bucharest three years ago, and you weren’t there waiting for me. I’d never felt so cold.

I picked up the phone convinced it couldn’t really be you, even though I still knew your number. When I heard your voice my hands trembled and I couldn’t tell if I needed to smile or cry. I smiled and you said you missed me. I asked why now. You said nothing ever changed. I asked again and you said you were bitter, you still hurt since I pushed you away. You’ve wanted to call for years but held that grudge; like I knew you would.

You’re coming to London with business and you want to meet. You were shocked when I refused. You too know I’ll always love you and couldn’t believe I can be so cold. I said ‘I have to go’ and you stuttered. I said ‘I love you, B’ like I always used to say, and hung up.

Now I cried. But it wasn’t the heartbroken cry I knew. I cried like old people cry for the past, for the joyful days they can never re-live. I cried because I’ll always be yours, and because I never was. And I’d love to see you B, but I know you can’t take it. We’d be back where we were all those years ago; you ready to ruin your life for a dream, and me breaking you heart once again…