Status: You are all beautiful. Thank you for the comments.
You
1st May 2002
That stupid song came on the radio while I was cleaning the men’s toilets. The Sinead O’Conner one and before I even know it I’m singing along to the words. And of course it’s a Sinead O’Conner song that reminds me of you because it’s a cliché, sad indie rock song to remind me of my lost love. As well as reminding me of the hole you left it reminds me of wrestling clippers from your hands when you stood in my bathroom and told me you were going to shave all your hair off.
“You can’t shave all your hair off.” I told you clasping your tiny hands in mine. My hands dwarfed yours. You were so small you made me feel like a giant.
“Why? Worried you’ll find me unattractive?” your eyes were challenging. Daring me to say the truth you were expecting but afraid to hear the answer.
You never expected me to say anything nice. “You’d look beautiful bald but your head will be cold and you’ll only regret it in the morning.”
“I could wear a hat.” You tried to wrench the clippers but I was easily stronger than you, and equally determined.
I gave you a dubious look and eventually you conceded with a pout. “I’m bored.” You whined flouncing from the bathroom. I put the clippers back in their box and tucked them neatly under the sink. You did that often. You got things out and then left them forgotten wherever you’d put them down again. You’d left your clothing strewn about my room. Socks lay abandoned by the bed, your trousers draped over a chair in the living room and your underwear hanging from lamps. You did it as a joke so that it would look like we were having crazed sex all the time. I always cleaned up after you.
“You’re like my mother.” You teased.
“I bloody hope not.” I balked following the blue bow on your underwear up the stairs.
We settled for going to the Roof Garden but only when you agreed to put on a coat. We sat up there breathing puffs of smoke into the air and drank all night whilst we listened to the student radio. When that song came on you told me that that was the kind of song that would remind us of one another one day. I should have known what you meant but I was naïve and so I just replied.
“I hope not.” And watched as you finished off another alcho pop and fell into my arms.
It was so cold in the house that we wrapped ourselves around one another like tree roots nestled under the earth. Your body fit mine as if we were two puzzle pieces. Fate was satisfied to see me cosseting you so.
“You can’t shave all your hair off.” I told you clasping your tiny hands in mine. My hands dwarfed yours. You were so small you made me feel like a giant.
“Why? Worried you’ll find me unattractive?” your eyes were challenging. Daring me to say the truth you were expecting but afraid to hear the answer.
You never expected me to say anything nice. “You’d look beautiful bald but your head will be cold and you’ll only regret it in the morning.”
“I could wear a hat.” You tried to wrench the clippers but I was easily stronger than you, and equally determined.
I gave you a dubious look and eventually you conceded with a pout. “I’m bored.” You whined flouncing from the bathroom. I put the clippers back in their box and tucked them neatly under the sink. You did that often. You got things out and then left them forgotten wherever you’d put them down again. You’d left your clothing strewn about my room. Socks lay abandoned by the bed, your trousers draped over a chair in the living room and your underwear hanging from lamps. You did it as a joke so that it would look like we were having crazed sex all the time. I always cleaned up after you.
“You’re like my mother.” You teased.
“I bloody hope not.” I balked following the blue bow on your underwear up the stairs.
We settled for going to the Roof Garden but only when you agreed to put on a coat. We sat up there breathing puffs of smoke into the air and drank all night whilst we listened to the student radio. When that song came on you told me that that was the kind of song that would remind us of one another one day. I should have known what you meant but I was naïve and so I just replied.
“I hope not.” And watched as you finished off another alcho pop and fell into my arms.
It was so cold in the house that we wrapped ourselves around one another like tree roots nestled under the earth. Your body fit mine as if we were two puzzle pieces. Fate was satisfied to see me cosseting you so.