I wanted to write about something good, so I chose to write about you.
You make me think of one of my favourite comfort foods – a cheese toastie – because you are warm and reliable and cheer me up on the worst kind of days. And you make me want to dance around the kitchen, like I do as I wait for the cheese(s) to melt between the buttered bread. Because I am so happy and excited to see you and I can’t stand still waiting. But maybe the anticipation is the best part – because then I am left wanting more. It kind of feels like a drive to the airport at five in the morning – it’s the only time I like to fly - a new beginning that needs a grand entrance. And you are worth losing sleep.
Your touch feels like a song by the XX. With a tempo so seductive and familiar my brain can’t recall what it’s called. It’s so addictive – I could listen to it on repeat. Maybe that’s why I have a playlist that only contains songs by them. You understand that lyrics are not always necessary to make a good song – because what it’s really about is making you feel something. And you do that. Kind of like how I feel putting on my favourite jumper after a hot shower and long day at work.
You remind me of Cluedo because I love mysteries and you are so hard to read. Like the murder of Mr Black, there are so many different dimensions to your ‘how’ and ‘why’ and I want to understand them all. Just like a Clue Card, I get all giddy when I peel back a layer of yours, but you are like a turtleneck worn under a t-shirt in Autumn and I’m not quite there yet. But it’s like rereading a good fiction book, because each time I become slightly more familiar in the order that things go. Things happen the way they are meant to happen I suppose. Maybe that’s why I’ve never won a game of chess – I get impatient when moving the pieces and forget how to play the game.
Sometimes I have this re-occurring dream that I am an incompetent superhero because I can only fly if I run down a really big hill. I think it’s a metaphor for all sorts of things. But sometimes you make me think I can fly, and I don’t mean this literally. I just mean that maybe I am writing this because of you more than I am writing it for you.
You’ve shown me what it’s like to be seen and heard and I’m not used to, and not sure, if I quite like that feeling. I think that if somebody looks at me too long, they will see too much and that wouldn’t be good at all. But I think it’s important to be exposed sometimes. It’s kind of like how when I was little, I used to play “Hide and Seek.” I hid under the sheets because I didn’t understand time and space and how the blanket wasn’t really flat with a me-shaped me under it. But maybe I wanted to be found then, because I want to be found now. I don’t know if I would hide at all if you were the one doing the seeking.
Artwork created by Lucinda Gray