I have the naiveté of believing that people will become who I loved them for or the good things my mind didn’t repress, because if you even discard happy memories with bad people, what will you even have left?
“Why do we still have exes as friends on Facebook but we don’t follow them on Instagram?”
“But some do.”
Karen chews on that.
“I wonder why do we pray that someone does the move.” And it’s as if we end up escaping everything with conversation as I end up sitting, legs against the wall on the floor, just a bit below the paintings I should be hanging off until tomorrow. Karen tries to open her mouth but I know that I’ll get the courage at some point to admit that you can get kicked out randomly and then have to couch surf, as I’d leave some boxes at Karen but with her family moving in her suddenly due to the war, she has no more place, so she apologizes, taking one box by the time we had packed everything and I end up knowing nothing. I don’t speak of Jack either even if it feels like reality had cracked, shards revealing his back and how he had felt once more underneath me. I close my eyes, as she leaves.
And I ended up hogging up the bar downstairs across the street, waiting for any reply on an apartment no matter how short notice and it ended up being harder not to think of Jack which was pinned below me and how it had felt to go entirely inside him again, as he was desperate, melting and groaning underneath me, making me sure that the past had still happened where after we had broken up I had no choice but to keep coming back to him and we ended up playing pool once when my tongue was entirely tied up and I couldn’t do anything besides stare and somehow speak. He had thought that I would burn out, I felt him barely asking about my photos at the time as I would just wonder how come he had managed to still to do furniture with his hands so easily and I had pinned them down last night.
No matter how happy or wealthy you might be at the moment things like love can slip out and apparently apartments, it’s like an allergy reminding that things nag and will take over for those brief hours of the day but it will be love which will need a transplant. I had still seen him for a few times, watching him cross the road with anyone and I could never forgive him because then I wouldn’t be able to tell myself that I can believe that I had never loved him or that his name wouldn’t cause the blood pressure to rise and the veins to swell up as if Jack had been holding me in his arms again, even if I couldn’t patch up anything and recall the soil of the last night, I could still lie. It’s sudden that all of a sudden you can’t stand the person anymore and I just doodle not even paying attention to the patterns and feeling the stubble try to break the skin on my fingers.
And with every letter the heart will ache more as if nothing had ever passed between the last moment I’ve thought of him, making time irrelevant and as fast slipping as sand through the fingers, showing where the stone was.
Why we don’t meet our exes or end up enstranding them from our lives becomes far too simply, because love never dies and at least in the moment where we block them from ourselves because there is no other way to kill love other than to starve it, because by the end of any addiction you need to extract it entirely from your life to actually live life the way it was before, going back to an old safe point knowing what had happened and what to avoid because the love battle is always the same. And you know you’ll lose. And that was what had made me crack, it wasn’t even that he mentioned any of our relationship, we had met one last time and I had blocked him, because it wasn’t even about not wanting him back, I knew he would never come back so I wanted to pretend that I had never loved him as if my whole life had been a lie and I could blur out his lovely face.
And life seems to be in misery which you can’t escape and leaves harshest traces of footsteps which trails into the night, reminding how empty the human shell is underneath all the flesh because by the end of the day our organs are removed and only the carcass is left, and how can we know when such thing starts walking by itself? We’re all blood and skin which somehow managed to speak in the darkest and sharpest fairytales as we’ve managed to think that killing each other is beneficial for no God, making ourselves a superficial fate without understanding religion to the core.
Leaving someone is harsh because all the memories are yours and theirs and somehow now there’s two boxes with opened locks in each hand and to get anything out you’ve got to ruffle through all the tickets you’ve bought. I end up taking the seat outside, lighting a cigarette, regretting that I’ve shooed Karen off even if she promised to see me later. Meeting Jack is something I’ve decided that I wanted a bit more, because there’s a reason people try to never drink again after going sober.
We didn’t talk after we both came even if after pulling out, I had never felt so relieved it felt as if I had never had sex before, staring at his back and the brief while as he glanced at me with full dark eyes and I could’ve told him that I loved him and that would’ve meant nothing at all. And I hoped that it would all be for the best for us to leave each other lone even if I could recall every hair through my fingers, that I could solely imagine him walking across the street, his hair longer with some bad goofy hat and his curls still intact no matter what age, that it would be us again and that it would be solely left as a desire.
Two cups of coffee changed nothing and it was odd to know where could things happen and I knew that I was looking out of the window too much. Cities are small after all when you want things to happen.
Growing up I had felt intimidated by straight cis sex because I didn’t want a role, I thought just penetrating was sad and depressed me. And the more I grew the more scared I became that I would end up getting forced into something and when Jack left it was as if I was back in my bedroom and I didn’t know what a world outside the walls was with plastic belief that everyone is straight and cis.
And it gets scarier after I had broken up with Jack, realizing that I would never be able to feel the same comfort of knowing that I had found something else in my life and seeing his nervous chatter about his girlfriends not feeling comfortable that he had been gay once and even throwing comparisons that he was nothing like me.
The sky stopped dipping itself into the night, leaving confusion and a state of incubated vertigo was given. It ended up reminding of some utter calm sense as I was slowly realizing that I was nowhere close to getting anything and I barely had any friends over the years, even forgetting how people would do them and for the Facebook thing I had ended up travelling over a few countries because you end up burning money eventually, because sometimes you think depression can be cured with purchases and seeing them made me realize why I had left all those people again anyway.
The sky tries to fade to black.
I wonder why would we rather let someone else break us rather than ourselves as I find the courage to open Grindr again and message Jack if I can stay over since his whatever girlfriend or wife seemed to be gone last night.
I wonder if the lakes are the ones which hide the colour of the night and how deep is it hidden for summer to bear.
“I could never imagine you cruising.”
“Neither. I suck at it. I don’t know when to even send a dick pic, let alone how to react to one. I usually end up talking about movies and they leave.” I smirk, feeling on the edge of the seat but relaxed as I hear his voice behind me as I had spent the past half an hour looking outside at the sky and Jack had even managed to order as I was taking a few photos of the rough trees sketching the faded night.
“You still scored last night, though.” He smiles at me as he sits besides me and I try as harsher as I could without looking at him and it’s hard to feel Jack so close to me and even if before last night we hadn’t touched each other in years let alone hug it was just as painful as it had been before we stopped talking where it was a house of cards which I had wanted to fall, because it was so fragile but it had fallen on my turn instead causing me to turn around and leave Jack looking at the slowly falling cards, never looking at me as I had left. So how much do those people even think of you? How much do exes really think about you at all?
Where would one’s sexuality end then? And how fluid is it? How much can one slip under and what are the waters like and who bathes in them? And what does it even matter? And why does one sex confession seem enough fitting for even doubts to slip in? And why does sex even matter? And why can we never love at the right time? Why do we have to lose to love? And how long would it take to love oneself and let that oneself be loved by someone?
I go in phases where I frequently update or write more often some stories than other, sometimes writing a few chapters at a time specifically if the stories are shorter.
Before I go on, I'd like to apologize deeply for not updating as I ended up moving (finally done moving now xD) and Callie's relatives were over and I'm never too thrilled of not being out for everyone's safety. That takes a big toll on me and Callie as well. But y'know you can't do anything about it. Also that gave me enough inspiration so don't worry that will be used. And I'll try to update something tomorrow since I've gone so long without updating. I also get rusty when I get out of my writing routine, since I barely had time to write there as I would have to wake so early I'd sleep every single bus/train/car ride. But it was good. It's also odd, I dunno why I reminiscent life so much. It's really odd to be "grown up" if you must.
I had a few hundred words left to finish off today and now the sky doesn't go dark entirely so around 11 pm me and Callie headed outside and I wrote, realizing why I love living up north so much. So it's really beautiful and that kind of helped me to get back to writing much more and I used the whole change of scenery and outdoors which was taught to me ages back in Creative Writing really.
I'm quite... brutal to my instagram for some reason although I've axed nearly everyone on Facebook who I wouldn't want to know I'm trans or who I think wouldn't be comfortable.
Kind of living in Sweden you end up facing the fact that there is literally no apartments and people couch surf for even years (or a year) because it does get quite ugly and you've got scams on everything as well. So I never really addressed how hard it is to find apartments and that's kind of a small part of something daily I've experienced which I never addressed but talked about briefly maybe in Joyce, Joyce but that was it or in Blue/Jacket, so I kind of wanted to use that. Then I get scared what if I'm running out of ideas xD but not really it's actually something I hadn't written about.
Karen having relatives moving in was just talking about reality. I do make sure that nearly all of stories are set in our reality where war exists and is tearing down lives. I'm not going to sit quietly, I speak of it, I write of it.
But we learn to live without thinking of it much, that's why I write this way. Because we still pack clothes, do work, but we never forget what's going on.
I remember when me and Callie were pretty much still keen on finding places in Stockholm there was a cafe which we would sit waiting for any openings and it would take us even far deep into the evening to get something even for a night. It was a nightmare, so that's what I had given Jamie here. And yeah, you take any chance you get then.
Since I kept playing with my memories I started having trouble because usually I write in a bus ride but now we live rather close to the centre so I just get like one song, so I mused on how to let my mind turn off entirely and write. I played pool with headphones with Callie and I ended up recalling that actually the first time I played pool when I wasn't like 5 was with that said ex which kind of has been on/off in these backstories. I haven't been able to practice English and I was terrified it would slip away from me like Spanish and he was talking to me in English and I just could barely pronounce words, it was awful, I forget languages when I move into places where I don't speak it. And we had played pool and kind of all the past and present pool playing inspired the scene.
I think I kind of go deep enough on Jamie's feelings and nostalgia, love really. It's also a bit weird because I've never wanted a long lost ex like Jamie does. I really bury exes for good and also with the fact that they were all a bit mismatched because I didn't know my gender and sexuality, so yeah.
Also another inspiration or what I drew from was that frankly you still get a horrid sinking feeling in your chest if you meet an ex, as if it never goes away sometimes. But I remember I think the last time I had met my ex or second to last I had laughed later how desperate he had seemed because I wasn't really too keen on talking to him at the time. It's really weird to even discuss this because I've had so much kind of bottled up and now I see that all the pain dissolved and gone really, just a bit of sinking chest like any other painful memory. And I tend to talk of more recent events rather than I who I fancied in my pre-teens and dated in my early early teens.
Oh, also I forgot to mention while I was playing pool I pretty much dug out Smashing Pumpkins and Nirvana giving me a proper feel of what was it like to me then, since I used to be into Smashing Pumpkins when I was dating him and Nirvana was what got into after the break up so both those bands cover those two years for me, so it was really kind of going deeper into those feelings. Which explains why I'm listening to Ava Adore right now xD
It's more about dysphoria when it comes to the cis het sex. I always felt rather... intimidated and scared that what was expected of me was to frankly lay on my back and get penetrated and that would be it. Or thinking that I would only penetrate makes me dysphoric, I don't want to be assigned to one role and it kind of freaks me out because it reminds me that I should've been shoved into a box which seems very restricting to me. So I guess that's my I'm so vocally vers because it kind of just like putting on a strap on eases dysphoria, so does bottoming if you must. Because when I was growing up those things really scared me and yeah. A lot of things scare me to death thinking that people want to shove me back into "female" again, like flowers or cooking, it's really... small ridiculous stuff but because they were so forced upon me they terribly scare me and I cannot approach them.
I finished the phrase before the sky because I got distracted like I said to describe the sky.
I get depressed, I get manic, so I do sometimes buy small things to make me feel better like even a box of tea. It works, but sometimes it doesn't and to those times that phrase was dedicated.
I get scared, I get terrified that people won't see me as male because online I still don't post too many photos and yeah so online I'm not as scared as I am IRL. So yeah. And I got happy that I was seen as male, that really made my day, I do "pass" rather often but on dysphoric days I get very insecure and that made me really happy.
I can't cruise. I can't ever keep up Grindr-esque conversations, so that's an ode to that. xD I suck, like I'm the worst.
Also Placebo had been a big part of those years and I had dropped listening to them for a good while because it had been painful then I got back into them, then Callie fell in love with them and yeah maybe I'll recall something but barely these days because I've really reclaimed Placebo for myself.
But obviously writing this backstory and listening to Pierrot the Clown is a weird experience right now xD it was my depressed about love song.
The sexuality paragraph was written then I put it to the WABB chapter and then shifted it back and finished it off for this story XD
I really liked the ending even if I had intended to finish it much earlier (before I realized that then the chapter would be microscopic) and I just left to head back home to warmth xD
I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did and please tell me if you did, I'm always anxious about my Jack/Jamie stories since it's not the most popular pairing ever and I ship them fictionally with my soul