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Friday, 5 April 2019

Boyfriends: Ghosting

Boyfriends: Ghosting

The ghost of ghosting still haunts my present when it should be buried in the past, it wasn't that you were a bad boyfriend in fact you were great or good as maybe that's an overstatement either way you didn't suck but something did. You were charming in the right places, good looking, honest and a pretty decent fuck. You laughed at my jokes and made some passable ones of your own that would incite a giggle, you had a job that wasn't a career but none the less you cared about your customers and was skilled at your craft, you were good looking, had style and a mind that raced and was socially active, politically involved and creatively analytic. Your looks o wow those looks that perpetual tan, those vibrant green eyes, full luscious kissable lips and that pearly smile.

On paper you sound fine, but it wasn't fine, when you touched me I didn't burn, you kissed and I didn't disappear, we fucked and I didn't lose myself to you. Something, somewhere was off, it caused me to cause arguments, create scenes and act a dick, only in those moments and scenes did I truly feel the passion whilst you hurt, your pain was my joy.

It was just that it was boring, you had everything mapped out from when I saw you, you knew somehow I'd dance with you and in my drunk and your sensibly sober state that I'd give you my number, you knew I'd reply and that I'd meet you at the spot where you saw me pass your shop everyday, you knew that I knew you before you broke the ice and said hi. I had seen you everyday on my way to work whilst you were at work cutting keys, mending shoes and hanging out with the skaters in their shop next door when I left the office late.

You were comfortable with comfort, whilst the repetition of normality scared me, an existence of a house, kids, two pets and a 'Eco farm'. I couldn't take the mundane routine anymore, it was just so dull and boring, I loved you and I knew you cared for me deeply, Which made it hard yet at the same time easy.

You asked for a little and I asked for a lot, you gave all you could, whilst I presented you with my most valuable assets, time, presence and youth. A worthy yet not full exchange.

You revelled in Simplistic simplicity, you were great at doing nothing but making it feel like everything, showing me that grand moments can be still ones, that the journey is the destination and travelling isn't just physical, you don't have to move your body to refresh your energy and revitalise your soul, it was a way of thinking that led to a better state of being. The road walked you can walk for yourself, by yourself in the same place at your own pace. Each day is new and things can be done differently even when they're the same, you were hardly bored and I envied you for being that content. It was hippie as fuck but it worked for a time for me and I saw first hand for beautifully it worked for you.

opposites are supposed to attract but where does the difference make a whole, where's the room for deduction and what if the difference is the goals you feel you need to achieve, I should've known to not listen to prerecorded bullshit, written by some fossil.

I felt like I was making a mistake when I left and it's that which still burns, you were everything I ever wanted, an answer to youthful prayers on my knees in a bedroom lonely and afraid that I wouldn't be accepted by anyone, wishing wilfully with my entire being for another to open my eyes and mind, take me to new heights and show me what living was. Lesson learned that answered prayers aren't always a gift.

My friends told me I was crazy, my parents hushed me and you, you'd always pull me back in. I'd be ready to leave but you'd do something so endearingly sweet that I'd stay for a month or two and so the train chugged on.

You buy me a fashion magazine that isn't a fashion magazine as no fashion magazine needs fashion its title, you thumb through and it amuses as it amuses me that you're even bothering to pretend to care about LK Bennett dresses or whatever brand they put in those low scale rags,

How simple it is to please you and how hard it is to please me, am I cursed is that and if so is there a spell to counter this? You look at me adoringly and I cringe, your soppiness can be too much most times but tonight it's over the top. I look out the window and wander over, a view I've seen a million times I guess equal to your face, your body, your dick and ass, all the same landscapes and shapes that I've travelled well.

Every moment you offered there was an absent space that didn't allow it to be whole, it stopped from disappearing and losing myself to it, I was always present in your presence and never lost

Sent from my iPhone

Jaiden James
Editorial Director
RE-BEL Magazine