(no subject)
Alida hasn't left my head, but it's a different Alida dancing where she used to. I'm having dreams about her again, but they aren't the same reunion and relief sort of dreams right now; they belong to a reality and revolution order. She looks as she actually does and acts in the only way I've recently seen her act. She's older, heavier, faker. I don't know why her weight is picking at me. She's always been thinner than I am, and it's just a part of her image that didn't leave with the rest of her.
Separation makes you forget, but reunion can fix that. In what seems to be a brilliant, spontaneous moment, it's possible to remember every reason why you didn't like her. Every reason why you doubted friendship, and every reason why none of the other stuff mattered and why you loved her. Love her. I can't see her anymore, there are too many memories building human walls between us. Even with proof sitting on the front porch with a cigarette in one hand and a cheap book in the other, I can't stop believing that she's still the same. There was nothing childish about her on that porch. Nothing left of the wild, soft, dirty kid I love to be with. So I fill the void.
Fill it with everything on hand. The smell of her house, the cats creeping everywhere, the store across the street, the holes in the pavement, and so many tiny memories. Fill it up until there's nothing left but an Alida shaped hole that this New Alida doesn't fit in. Square one, plus a restless snapshot of a stranger-friend..
Right now I feel like I could listen to her lies all day if we could dance to the Spice Girls again, or wrestle in a pillow arena, or eat squashed mullberries off hot cement, play dress up on the bus, stalk the perverts at half price books, fall in the swimming pool, eat disgusting shoe string potatoes, shampoo our hair with toothpaste, or do anything with her again. I would be content to never see her again, if I could go on believing that she didn't change.
I know that I'm holding her up as an idol, that I'm forgetting SOMETHING about her. But I can't let go.
Separation makes you forget, but reunion can fix that. In what seems to be a brilliant, spontaneous moment, it's possible to remember every reason why you didn't like her. Every reason why you doubted friendship, and every reason why none of the other stuff mattered and why you loved her. Love her. I can't see her anymore, there are too many memories building human walls between us. Even with proof sitting on the front porch with a cigarette in one hand and a cheap book in the other, I can't stop believing that she's still the same. There was nothing childish about her on that porch. Nothing left of the wild, soft, dirty kid I love to be with. So I fill the void.
Fill it with everything on hand. The smell of her house, the cats creeping everywhere, the store across the street, the holes in the pavement, and so many tiny memories. Fill it up until there's nothing left but an Alida shaped hole that this New Alida doesn't fit in. Square one, plus a restless snapshot of a stranger-friend..
Right now I feel like I could listen to her lies all day if we could dance to the Spice Girls again, or wrestle in a pillow arena, or eat squashed mullberries off hot cement, play dress up on the bus, stalk the perverts at half price books, fall in the swimming pool, eat disgusting shoe string potatoes, shampoo our hair with toothpaste, or do anything with her again. I would be content to never see her again, if I could go on believing that she didn't change.
I know that I'm holding her up as an idol, that I'm forgetting SOMETHING about her. But I can't let go.