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Literature Text
I’ve rewritten the song to a ¾ and hope you know how to waltz, because I’m tired of the tango. I thought by now we’d have reached some kind of agreement, silent but there nevertheless, about all the doubts around us. But I still find you unsure of yourself with me, and you don’t think it’s possible for me to stay in love with you much longer.
I’m writing this on the terrace of the café where we first kissed, and where we were supposed to have lunch today, except for the fact that you called me halfway through German from your office to tell me you had to be a slave to your cubicle over the lunch break. And also to say you were sorry about that night, and that you still love me.
I know you still do. I never doubt that, not even after all the shit that came to a head and exploded on us that night. But I was kind of hoping that we could just move on ahead from it, instead of starting over from scratch. Because that’s what it feels like. Yesterday when you looked at me through the train window from the platform at your station, I thought I saw the same look on your face that you gave me when I first met you.
It’s the one that says you don’t quite know what to make of me.
We’re supposed to be good together. That’s what everyone tells us – and we always agree. But then somebody had to go butt in (and I’m not being underhanded here or taking cheap shots, but he’s your cousin). And then the doubt, the fear, the jealousy – all that negativity found a hole to get into our relationship.
We were due for a Big Fight, but did it really have to be about something like that? I always had this idea that the first Big Fight had to be about something trivial, like how I hate your new columnar cactus or how you think my money shouldn’t be invested in Aldo heels – but no. We had to fight about trust issues and fidelity and stuff like that – stuff that I never dreamed we’d ever argue about, either early on or later. I just never, ever thought we’d have to go through that argument, because I thought we had some kind of silent knowledge passing between us – a mutual agreement that in this relationship, all we could do was trust each other with so many things. And that we were both worthy of that trust.
The first time you kissed me, I knew you’d be worth it. I knew you’d be worth all the questioning looks, all the sighs, all the eyes sent up into orbit, all the teasing. You're that much older, I'm that much younger - we both know it and we don't care, so why should they? You're the most amazing thing that's ever happened to me. When I'm with you I feel like everything's okay, that nothing can touch me, that I can fly into that great big blue sky and not worry if I fall because if I do, you'll be there to catch me.
So.
Where to from here?
I’m writing this on the terrace of the café where we first kissed, and where we were supposed to have lunch today, except for the fact that you called me halfway through German from your office to tell me you had to be a slave to your cubicle over the lunch break. And also to say you were sorry about that night, and that you still love me.
I know you still do. I never doubt that, not even after all the shit that came to a head and exploded on us that night. But I was kind of hoping that we could just move on ahead from it, instead of starting over from scratch. Because that’s what it feels like. Yesterday when you looked at me through the train window from the platform at your station, I thought I saw the same look on your face that you gave me when I first met you.
It’s the one that says you don’t quite know what to make of me.
We’re supposed to be good together. That’s what everyone tells us – and we always agree. But then somebody had to go butt in (and I’m not being underhanded here or taking cheap shots, but he’s your cousin). And then the doubt, the fear, the jealousy – all that negativity found a hole to get into our relationship.
We were due for a Big Fight, but did it really have to be about something like that? I always had this idea that the first Big Fight had to be about something trivial, like how I hate your new columnar cactus or how you think my money shouldn’t be invested in Aldo heels – but no. We had to fight about trust issues and fidelity and stuff like that – stuff that I never dreamed we’d ever argue about, either early on or later. I just never, ever thought we’d have to go through that argument, because I thought we had some kind of silent knowledge passing between us – a mutual agreement that in this relationship, all we could do was trust each other with so many things. And that we were both worthy of that trust.
The first time you kissed me, I knew you’d be worth it. I knew you’d be worth all the questioning looks, all the sighs, all the eyes sent up into orbit, all the teasing. You're that much older, I'm that much younger - we both know it and we don't care, so why should they? You're the most amazing thing that's ever happened to me. When I'm with you I feel like everything's okay, that nothing can touch me, that I can fly into that great big blue sky and not worry if I fall because if I do, you'll be there to catch me.
So.
Where to from here?
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