A Touch Of Paris.
A little original text.
It was a mild September evening; we were sitting in a little cafe that reminded me of Paris. I told you something that I didn't even want to tell you but you kept on pulling and pulling and I was too tired of clinging to my thoughts like they were diamonds when all they are is rubble. So the words spilled from my lips like tea from a cup. I wish you'd told me about your designs because I thought you sketched them to stabilise me but you didn't. Maybe it's my fault because I don't take care of my construct very well and I let the flood accumulate until slowly, drop after drop, the water find holes in the levee. How inconsiderate of me. You are not a construction worker, you don't know how to deal with this. You work in an office; you know how to give orders but what to do when the fundament is broken - call someone to patch it up.
"I think I am very unhappy."
Dark fingers grab me in my dreams, they lock me in an embrace, and when I wake up I still feel them desperately holding onto my warmth. I can't shake them off and the thought of who they belong to, but I can't find the words to tell you that.
So I listened to your instructive words, your suggestions, but you don't know me. You don't know the sad songs that I enclose in my heart at night, to comfort me. You don't know that the things I casually tell you about or don't tell you at all are the reason I take breath after breath.
We are very different, you and I. Maybe you see things in this black-and-white world that keep you going but I can only thrive on colour; give me a deep blue or a light green and I can close my eyes and fall into their soft texture. What is real to you is different from what is real to me. Life to you is life, life to me is emotion. The capital 'I' in the sentence of life, that should be me. It's what I want to be. The peak on this lifeline, the moon among stars, I want to find myself there.
We step out of the cafe as the sun begins to fade and walk home enwrapped in our thoughts and hopeful premonitions. I write down the date and place for our next meeting, and it is better this way, because we are like satellites moving in a different orbit and I'm afraid we'll pass each other by.