Rainbows Are An Illusion
“It stinks when it’s nobody’s fault
because there’s nothing to blame
at the drop of your name
it’s only the air you took
and the breath you left”
- John Mayer, “Split Screen Sadness”
1.
Only 120 nights ago I took the last flight to your city. Amidst the mid-air turbulence, I prayed to be able to afford a positive response, or even be alive to respond to your inquiries about my trip. It’s funny how these days you can’t even acknowledge receipt of a YouTube link to your favourite artist’s new song, even after the ticks turn blue.
2.
“How many girlfriends have you had?”
Forgive me if I’m choking on my wine because I don’t know how to go about answering this question. Each of their first names tells stories whose heaviness causes my tongue to cave in.
3.
After two washes, your fragrance stays on this black T-shirt, still.
4.
For no reason, I kept smiling when I approached your hotel floor. It wasn’t so much the fact that it’s been 7 years, as it was the reality that I felt so comfortable around you. The hug was too…safe. You’ve got more beautiful with the years. I should tell you that more often, I should open up to how I felt about you in mid-2012 when I couldn’t afford a moustache and six packs lay where a round pouch now dwell.
5.
Hey Miss, I love that you send me videos of you totally unclad, but if it’s not too much to ask, could you extend the running time for a bit? Two minutes proves to be too short with the way those cheeks jiggle, and I find myself rewinding at 1.48 because I hate to see these visuals end. A jar of Jergens is also expensive these days, but not to worry, your guilty pleasure is safe with me.
6.
“Why do they always leave?”
Do you think I’ve not posed that question to myself too, for the past half-decade?
It used to be easy to say they were probably just curious, or that they couldn’t handle my intensity, but maybe I’m just not the kind of guy you stay with for a long time. Maybe I just have to come to terms with the fact that I can’t have it all.
7.
No matter how much you mentally prepare for it, dream about it, replay scenarios in your head every evening, you still reel from the effect when it hits. Sometimes it’s pain, other times it’s plain numbness…and that’s the scary part, that there’s nothing else for you to feel.
8.
Like pretending to be ready for the final eye-shutting while a loved one slowly expires from a terminal illness, you can’t predict the impact of that “I’m sorry, I can’t do this anymore” text. You think there’s nothing left inside you to break, you think you can’t sink lower when you’ve hit the floor, but there’s no escape when you feel the pile of broken pieces further crumbling.
9.
“I only know how to do two things: cook, and ride a man’s penis”
That’s fine by me. I don’t have much need for anything else lately. In any case, the migration from the kitchen to the bedroom is an appreciably short journey. Want to play Polo?
10.
It’s hard when you’re being ghosted, and you’re trying to get through, and you just can’t, and you feel really bad, and you’re hurt, but you can’t complain because you’ve shut your lovers out without warning in the past, and The Game is The Game.
