personal blog: simon

with all my feelings expunged, my cell on the nightstand, I hit my head to the pillow. like a ton of bricks, sinking into it and trying to erase the day. the moon has settled and the sun made her descend. my unkept bed. what’s the point of making it? usually I like things right and tidy, but lately I have been preoccupied… and how I left things with Kevin and Bryan is unacceptable. making amends however, is not that easy.

I pick up my phone and examine the capitalized ‘H’ and the small ‘i’.

‘Hi’ is such a harmless word but can cause such heartache. if everything just ended there, life would be perfect, well, at least for me. an amusing conception.

the next words, “are you okay? worried,” conclude Bryan’s text, which he sent five hours ago. which I have not responded to. which I am not planning to respond to; although, my behaviour is unacceptable. but, his concern is heard even in the digital version.

how can I respond where three hours ago I was begging Kevin for a touch, for a gesture that things are okay between us, knowing well that I broke his heart. knowing well that I make a mess of things.

I swipe down and turn off my phone. The cell vibrates after seconds rebooting. I focus on the flashing screen and flip the phone face down, placing it on the nightstand.

“hi. thinking of you.” Kevin’s casual text after our first time. “can’t sleep.”

typical and I momentarily froze, wondering what I’ve begun. the inconceivable, and texted Kevin with sorted lie, “same.” as I didn’t think of him. I always tried not to think of the men I slept with. it was easier.

a smiley face appeared on my screen.

it was a bothersome night like the one tonight… and I’m glad that for once someone didn’t apologize for my behaviour. ‘I’m sorry,’ and I would answer ‘you’ve done nothing wrong.’ ‘but, I’ve upset you,’ like my default of anger, sensitivity, and ease of flustering was a perfectly acceptable cue, right, to shower me with apologies as a gift, as a ruling… and I would nip jauntily, trying to deflate the situation ‘I’m easily rattled. a flaw. I should apologize,’ which I rarely did. that’s how my circle of life of conversations goes.

“there. we apologized.” Jacob said and my heart melted as my preservation dropped a notch.

“now what?” I asked.

“we gaze to starry night and try to sleep.” Jacob would say such ridiculous things to make me smile. adorable and dorky. “night,” he added crossing his arms and closing his eyes.

“night,” but I didn’t close my eyes, not for another ten minutes.

pleasant memories of Jacob to settle my uneasiness. always on my mind, as you can tell. my deprived thoughts always spin to Jacob and I grab my phone from the nightstand, only to halt on Jacob’s image. the circle one that’s attached to the person’s contact details. Jacob’s number only requires one swipe and I am too frightened to become a burden.

and that’s how I play the game. turning from one man to another, hoping someone will fulfill my void.

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© simon whittle — second act