Are You My Home?

Archive, Writing

I’ve tried to write this a thousand times, but no words seem good enough for you. I can’t explain how you make me think, feel, what you make me say and do. You’re everything right but it’s all wrong – the timing, the place, the beat of our song. I can’t let you be the one who got away — that’d mean there would come a day without you – but what else am I supposed to do?

You’ve said the same yourself. It’s unfair, but nothing fair comes easy. Is it time we give up, or do we make ourselves work to hold onto something that we should have let go? Because if I leave then my head will be a mess, but if I stay I’m dropping the rest of my life. Don’t they say home is where the heart is? Well my home is in Ireland, but my heart will forever be with you. If the roles were reversed, what would you do? Give it up for me? I couldn’t let you do that. We’re too new to each other to even consider it.

Damn. Did I just help myself decide?

I don’t mind giving it up as long as this, us, is serious. It’s not like I’ve much back home. I’ve a few friends, but without each other we’ll be okay. Three months here, I’m on the last lap in my internship. No matter what I decide, I need to figure out what’s next, and it’s a decision I need to make soon. Otherwise I’ll end up living here on the streets of Cameroon.

Okay. I’ve said it already. I have to go. I can’t give away everything I have to show for myself, only for a man I barely know. But it’s not only a man I barely know. It’s you. Equally exciting and terrifying, you are the unknown.

And that’s why I have to leave.

I think you’re a dream, but nothing is what it seems. Right?

But your smile. Your laugh. Your curious ways. How you crinkle your nose when you laugh so hard you can’t speak. The way we argue without really fighting. Your selflessness and generosity. Your humour and your soul. I’m really torturing myself to try and stay, in case you didn’t know.

How can thinking of you be so torturous, when I giggle upon hearing your name?

On June 28th, I’ll board the plane but I won’t say goodbye. It’ll make it real that this is over. Maybe I can whisper if I try. I’ll keep my eyes dry as I’m lucky to have known you. Even if it wasn’t for a lifetime like I dreamed, loving you was better than I thought life could ever be.


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