The chatter around us seemed to have multiplied, the music ebbing into a gentle stream. I looked out of our bubble and felt only a hum, reverberating around us but not quite touching us. I was secure, I was happy.
My mind tugged onto a single stream of memory, a thread I had looped around it to help me remember. It’s been a while and I have stopped being surprised by how easily our conversation flows, how I want to tell you everything and not hold anything back. From the most inconsequential event to things of great urgency, they flow like a tide between us, back and forth.
My words spill their letters and, in that moment, you take my hand and intertwine our fingers; the alcohol gently making its way to our bloodstreams. You sit there wearing a lopsided smile, absorbing my words and looking so nonchalant. Like as if this was the most ordinary thing in the world, like as if my heart hadn’t slipped through my ribcage and into the pit of my stomach, like as if affection was a commodity to be shared so easily.
In your defence, you have never viewed affection as a commodity to be sold and bought. I come from a world where love has a price and hearts are broken with the speed of lightning. A world where affection is hoarded, a wasteland of hearts. I have only ever been robbed of my soul, for I am well versed in the art of giving.
If I love you, I will let you have my all. You can move into my heart, strip my body of all its shame and haunt my soul. I have been told to be careful, hearts break easily. But, what else is the purpose of our hearts? The heart is for breaking, for feeling, for loving recklessly. How can the heart grow softer if we never let it break, never allow it to grieve and feel?
But, I am getting side-tracked. You laughed, and now I understand why making someone laugh is such a treasure. I could do this all day, hold your hand and walk you through my world of absurdities. This is a world of my own, my vulnerabilities are alive and breathing. You should know I do not bring people here, not so often anyway.
You are gazing at me like I am the most important thing in the room, I have never seen your eyes drift away from me. We are held together by electricity, buzzing and alive in our hands. We get ready to leave, my hand held firmly in yours. Tugging me along the next adventure at 10’o clock in the night.
It’s a hot night, spring is coming alive in the form of almond blossom trees, their pink petals strewn all over the streets. You kiss me then, and it’s as if I have never been kissed before. It’s a heart thumping, mind reeling, fingers tugging onto skin kind of urgency. Your kisses are always urgent, like as if you are boarding a train to an unnamed city at the crack of dawn, tasting me for the last time.
Through the thumping of my heart, emerges a single delicate thread of whisper- I hope the night sucks us in right this moment, the geometry of our lips intact and our bodies communicating in a language private to them alone.