Basecally the same thing, these nights.
It was not always wine.
Sometimes, Layla needed Ice cream.
Ice cream tasted better at 4 AM, especially after getting lost on a field in the dark and having a really uncomfortable encounter with the farmer who owned that particular field.
“What is he even doing there with his tractor in the middle of the night”, I whispered, still embarrassed.
Layla giggled. “It’s his field! He can work there whenever he wants to.”
“I can’t believe, I got lost again”, I continued complaining, as we sat in the kitchen and ate our ice cream in vanilla scented candle light. “I was so sure to know the way, and then I stood in the middle of those bushes and the tractor came.”
“At least you were polite enough to say hello, before running away and almost being run over by him three times”, Layla mocked me with more details of what just had happened.
That’s what we do, when the world is over and we somehow still have to survive. Scare farmers in the dark and eat ice cream.
Oh god, I wanted to scream.
Yes, tonight I felt like screaming.
And Layla giggled.
“That boy again?”
I swallowed hard. “He is not a boy.”
“Still call him a boy”, Layla insisted. “Suits him better.”
She was still joking.
She was still joking, and I was drowning again.
I had had this feeling before. These urge to move, to run. Running as the only way to slow down my thoughts that were spiraling around something that was nothing but painful.
But right there, I felt as if it had never been as bad as now. In late April of 2020.
“What are you gonna say next?”, I snapped. “If you love something, set it free and it maybe will come back, if the universe is not a complete mess- oh wait! It usually is!” Oh god, my ice cream was already gone. “That time will tell, but Oh! Time might tell something that I don’t want to hear, and because I’m not a witch and neither a demon, I just have to sit here and wait and endure this shit?”
Yes, tonight I felt like screaming.
Tonight I was screaming.
“I know how much this hurts”, Layla said and put the spoon aside.
My witch would let her ice cream melt for me, and I just could stop screaming. What a horrible person I was …
“You do?”, I asked. “How. You never chose someone. You never wanted someone you could have had, but the world got messed up!”
“Hey!”, Layla interrupted. “My first husband was not my only one! And his early death opened up opportunities.”
Then another shadow crossed her face. “I did not kill my husband.”
I was confused. “I never said you did …”
“Yes, but I almost was burned for that”, Layla insisted. “I did not kill any of my hubsands!”
I wanted more ice cream.
No, I just wanted to scream.
I needed to run.
So I got up.
“I cannot be in here”, I explained, before Layla could ask. “I cannot sit down. I cannot slow down. I don’t think that anything that I ever set free in this broken world will ever come back! I don’t want to hear what time will tell, because time never tells anything good for me. I just can’t. I can’t think.”
And so I escaped onto one of the fields again.
Layla close behind me.
“I can’t think”, I repeated. “I can’t be. I can’t be like this. I am nothing, anymore.”
Oh yes, spiraling thoughts are fun.
This could go on for a while.
“I don’t know where my skin ends and the world starts. I don’t think I have a skin.”
Layla’s hand was on my shoulder.
“Do you remember what we’ve said about dreams, the other day?”, she tried, carefully.
“I don’t care!” Ice cream … I mean, I screamed. “I can only exist in dreams. They are connected to everything I have lost.”
Yes, I thought that was what I was gonna be from now on. A thing that only existed in dreams, because the heart had no place in this world anymore. I would always be this shell of wonderful things that were lost and deep desires that were still felt.
It’s not addictive to find aesthetics in pain.
No, not all.