„..but actually, I’m not.
last week I told him life is about addictions, when he replied it’s more about good habits, but this thought would reveal a lot. london made us fluorescing like stellar crystals in late sunset rays. a dream.
his sign at the airport said „mary“ and mine said „johnny“, even if it was me getting out of the plane. a stupid comment about the way I wrap my scarfs and then he left with me. he stopped the car halfway to london to pause at this industrial area, where we sat on his rooftop. hearing him singing a beautiful dumb slow cover of travolta’s & jones‘ final grease song, I knew I could never go back. back to a city in the middle of europe, a thousands away. I would leave my mind on the island and go back with the usual stone in my chest, non-able to fall for anything else. even if we weren’t allowed to spend the whole time in london in twine, it was the moments inbetween that left me speechless. have you ever met a person meant to spend your life with you, knowing it’s not allowed to last?
thursday evening, the bonfire night burned our eyes, we sat in little venice and he sang silently a song that means way too much to me:
In spite of all the danger
In spite of all that may be
I’ll do anything for you
Anything you want me to
If you’ll be true to me“
let me tell you, life is about addictions.“
(mayra-bellyna coltrane “the diary of little mrs. waiting”, 2015, beltz-verlag)