So you're back, then. Didn't take long for you to get bored, did it? Listen, I know we go way back but you should have read the sign:
Dear feelings,
Kindly sod off.
Regards,
Dan.
It's not enough for you lot, is it? That I let you in here once. Not enough that I let you wreck the gaff. Not enough for you to sneak out like reverse thieves in the night; leaving all my stuff but adding to my collection of shit with your own baggage? No, you wait until I've reorganised the joint to accommodate all the crap you left me with (I can't seem to get rid of it, so I've just had to make room) and then you come back hammering on the door to get in again. Where've you been? Where were you? And more importantly, where did you take the only apparent salve for the pain you caused me: the comfort of your constancy? Suddenly it was gone, throwing doubt on whether it had ever existed at all.
Wherever you've been you seem to have brought even more crap back with you this time than you had last time. Which would be fine if I could trust you to stick around and help me sort it out. But I know that would be myopic in the extreme. I see now that I gave you too much credit last time. And now you want me to trust you again? I get to a place where your absence doesn't hurt any more and you want me to open up to the possibility that you'll do it all again? To present you with the same target?
Sure, why not? The kettle's on, your songs are on the jukebox and I made a space for your shit. Wipe your feet on the way in.
No comments:
Post a Comment