I didn’t want to love you,
I didn’t need to need you,
Not with your imperfections-
I didn’t need that pain
I didn’t need your hatred
Your moments
Your darkness
But I said yes.
You were nicer in person, which
disconcerted me at first. I immediately began to think of all the wrong things
you could do to me. Julia’s words echoed around my mind as you smiled me a
nervous hello.
“He’s lovely, but he’s a liar”. Why
did I say yes? Why didn’t I ask her what made you a liar, what you lied about?
I wasn’t hungry, I was anxious.
Everything on the menu sounded bad to me. Maybe it was because I’d been the one
to choose the restaurant, my usual favourite vegetarian restaurant. Maybe I was
embarrassed that I’d made you come with me- what meat-eating, gym-going young
man would not laugh at the concept of a meatless menu? But you looked
excited to get your lasagna, genuinely. Was that a lie too? Did you lie all the
time, or not even once?
Carlos brought us our food. I’d never
called him that, but over the months of me drifting in for cheap student
lunches with people I thought I knew and always lost, I’d read his name tag
enough times to remember. He smiled at me too. My pizza was good, sure it was,
but I didn’t want it. I wanted to leave so badly. I didn’t want to hear about
your brother or your trophies. I didn’t want to tell you about all the gaps in
my life, why I spent my time doing nothing of note. You didn’t deserve to know,
but I told you.
You were so beautiful. The more I tore
my gaze from my sad pizza, and caught the rims of your blue eyes, your caramel
strands out of place across your forehead, the more I could see that I didn’t
want to like you. I wanted you to be the worst date I’d ever have, maybe you
could even be the one I could mention at house parties and take a shot to your
broken name. But you tried so hard that night to make me like you.
I resisted pretty well. I refused
dessert. You paid for our food and wine. You took me out into the darkness of
the night and put your jacket around me because you knew that was what you were
supposed to do. We walked along the dock, down the marina, right to the end.
Maybe you were going to push me off then. Maybe that’s what made you a liar.
But you didn’t. You took my hand. You led me down, we sat at the edge. Your
legs and mine over the side, dangling above everything and nothing, the water
threatening to splash but never doing so.
You told me more things about you, all
the times you broke your bones and went to hospital and the times you got in
trouble and what you thought of our sky. I couldn’t help it. But I wanted you
to talk forever about it. I didn’t want our time to be over, though my mind
told me to go.
You swept my hair behind me left ear -
he’s right handed
And now he’s going to kiss me
I didn’t want you to kiss me. I didn’t
want you to love me. But there you were. And there I was, chin up, eyes closed,
your lips on mine. And I felt wonderful. Because you needed me, and I could
help you. And you were mine for a few seconds, and I was yours.
I couldn’t help it. I leaned my head
into your shoulder and didn’t worry that I was doing something wrong. You felt
so good against my weight. You were strong, and I was small and you wanted me
right where I wanted to be. We stayed there a while, remember?
Eventually we got up and you looked
into my eyes again, and laughed a little at the side of my face, which had gone
red in the shape of your collar. I didn’t mind.
You offered me a lift home, I didn’t
know you drove. I thought to myself that I really shouldn’t. Maybe your lie
would live in the car. How can he be a lovely liar? But I got in. And we
listened to music that fit my thoughts perfectly, and you knew all the words.
At one point my eyes got teary, but I couldn’t show you that.
I didn’t want to get out of the car
when you pulled up outside of my house. I didn’t want to leave your warmth, and
go in and tell my family everything about you. I squeezed your hand, and kissed
your face whilst we held up traffic.
I think that was the first time I
thought I might love you. You were sweet, bright and yet, commanding and
stable. Where were your lies? I didn’t want them. I didn’t want to love a liar.
So, tell me, why did she tell me you
were a liar? Did she not want me to have you, you to have me? Is that it?
Because I think I love you now, and I need your
truth.
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Thank you for your words x