goldstar-angelwings

[goldstar-angelwings]

A DELICATE SWIRL OF SADNESS.

I guess you needed some time. Away from the city. Away from me. Time to get out of the head space you had been occupying over the last few months, a chance to drop the bags of trouble you had been dragging behind you. They had rocked and rolled you through your paces as one wave after another crashed down over you. 

Each one seemed close to sinking you, your smile dimmed as each day passed. You would return home from rough days and sit by the window with a coffee. There was a sort of religion in this moment. The time waiting for the water to boil, the pouring of the coffee beans into the grinder. The moment while the kitchen was filled with the sound of each bean being crushed seemed almost symbolic of the moments in your day which had been crushed also. You would measure out the ground coffee, spending time moving back and forth as you got the measurement exactly to your liking. The look on your face as you finally poured the black liquid into the white mug that you kept hanging on a hook. 

We had brought it from a souvenir shop in Barcelona a few years back. You always used that mug. It was part of the routine. You would pour the coffee and smell it as you stood by the counter next to me. Then you would pad through the room into the living room and find your spot by the window sill. From here you would stare out at the world and attempt to make sense of it all. 

Sometimes you would turn to me and ask questions while I prepared our dinner. It had always been this way. Although you cooked well, you never felt in the mood to do so. The task fell to me and over the years it had become my routine. I would move around the kitchen trying out new ideas, recipes friends had told me about or taking a gamble with a madcap thought of fusing different ingredients together. Sometimes they worked, sometimes they didn’t. The one consistent result of all my experiments was that you never made any negative comments. Even on the nights when the food was so inedible that it was served almost direct from the pan to the bin. You would grin while fanning out the take away menus on the counter. It always made my defeat feel better. 

I enjoyed the time in the kitchen, being creative after a long day of doing the opposite. Occasionally as I would hover over a pan at the hob and the steam rose out of it I would glance across at you and watch as the steam from your mug swirled up around you, coating the window. 

You always seemed lost in thought, drowned from the world and distant.  I knew better than to ask you what your thoughts were or how you were feeling. I knew that sooner or later you would finish the coffee, bring the mug back to put in the sink and then sit down at the table and wait for food. Often watching with mild curiosity as I served it up to see if I was pleased with the results or not. Then you would tuck into it and smile over at me, silently thanking me for my work. 

I guess you needed time away. Time to think. But I had missed you sitting at the window the last few days. I felt a tinge of sadness or neglect every time I saw the white mug hanging from the hook. I guess it made me think of myself, how I felt like I was just hanging around without a purpose since you had left. I think that was why I had felt so happy when you called earlier today to say you were getting the train, that you were coming back. The demons you had were tucked away and put to bed. You were returning, to the flat, to me and to the window.  The smell of coffee would filter through this room again.

[goldstar-angelwings]

Screaming in Stockholm. A side street with a heap of dirty snow piled up into a corner beside us. Cold seeping into my bones as I crouched over laughing at you. Your manic grin. A grin of a fool and a drunken clown. A beautiful spirit of the night, a danger for a delicate man, a dragon of hypnotic magic puffing plumes of smoke into the dark night. You screamed again. No rhyme or reason for it, just a silly moment in a silly night. You liked how it echoed off the silent streets. It definitely echoed. Late at night. It was so bloody cold. Colder than I was used to. Which seemed to delight you. A guy who wasn’t able to deal with something you took as a daily deal. You flicked your cigarette away into the pile of snow where it quickly died. Then began walking ahead of me, telling me about a late night bar that would still be open. My drunken words stumbling into an almost coherent sentence asking if it would be warm there. A cackle as this made you laugh. A chatter as my teeth played along. You were something new, something different to what I knew. This night had an unplanned course and you were happy to lead the way through the maze of streets of Stockholm, past houses where people slept and dreams filled their minds. You turned and took my hand, a cold icicle, a stalagmite in a cold night as I attempted to bend my fingers to mould around your warm hand. We had met by random chance hours earlier in the coffee shop Johan & Nyström on Swedenborgsgatan 7. I had wandered in to escape the cold and you had stood behind the counter with a friendly smile. A sense of pride filled my mind as I managed to fumble around the few words of Swedish I had actually learned and you seemed to understand my order and began making my coffee. The moment was quickly punctured when you continued speaking in Swedish to me, in sentences which were clearly not about the coffee and were more conversational in nature. My blank stare seemed to confuse you as my mind raced around for words to defuse the situation. I embarrassingly blurted our ‘I’m English!’ hoping this would be the end of the situation. Instead you stopped making the coffee and came over to chat with me more. Your English was perfect. So clear and so easy to follow. Whereas my words seemed to fumble all over the place in a classic Hugh Grant/Colin Firth/stereotype English Gentleman style. You seemed genuinely surprised that I was English. I took it as a mark of pride that you mistook me for a local as you asked how I had found this particular coffee shop. It seemed to be a local joint and while it was welcoming to tourists, it wasn’t necessarily expecting any. You gave me a look of respect when I confessed I had looked up a blog for the best coffees in the city. Somewhere during the afternoon this led me away from being a paid customer to being a friend sitting at the coffee bar with you pouring different coffees and explaining the origins of them and a bit about how they attain the best flavour. My wallet went on holiday as it stayed in my pocket while I tried many coffees and watched locals stopping in with their kids after school or business colleagues dropping by after work. You asked me what music I had been listening to as I walked in, I had large headphones wrapped around my neck. I talked about the Canadian bands I was currently obsessed by as I walked through the city, bands like Wolf Parade, Handsome Furs, Sunset Rubdown. You laughed at the names, before telling me your favourite bands who also had strange names. We both realised we had a passion for music and this led you to suggest we go to a bar when the café closed. You knew a good bar playing local bands, it was a short walk away. So you had topped up my mug with amazing hot coffee while you closed and cleaned up the place. As the dull day dropped into night we were alone in the café, laughing about music, films and our different cultures. You had then closed the place and we stepped out into the bitter cold and made our way across to the bar where we would swap coffee for spirits. You were the spirit of Stockholm.  

[goldstar-angelwings]

Duncan never got over you leaving. He would sit on the decking waiting for you to return home from work, unaware that you would never grace the steps that led up to our front door again. His sad eyes would echo mine as I sat behind him on a seat watching him. Occasionally he would turn back and look at me as I shifted in my seat. Sometimes a hot coffee sat in front of me on the table and sometimes in my darker days a beer or two, followed by a whiskey if the day really took some drowning. My job was as empty and unfulfilling as it ever had been, but now there was no-one to talk about it with. There was no graceful ghost giggling beside me who I could vent my frustrations with about being passed over for a promotion or to chat about strategies on how to move on. To look forward in life with someone, to follow dreams and a highway of hope, this had gone when you pack your stuff up and left. I was alone with my faithful dog. A dog you had introduced me to, when on a whim you had passed an animal shelter and fallen in love with him. Duncan and I had taken time to adjust to life together as I had never been a dog type person, but you worked hard at bonding us. Every time he walked into a room you would point out things that fascinated you about him and would make such a fuss, leaping down to hug him and make room on the sofa between us for him to join us. The times you would collect his lead from the coat hook and stand waiting with him by the front door, so that I would be met with yours and his eyes watching me waiting for a group outing to the park. We would open the door and he would scamper on ahead while you held the lead and hooked your arm around mine. You were our anchor. Our guide. And our friend. There were many nights where the three of us would wander the city streets under the amber lights happy in our collective moment, happy to enjoy each other’s company. You and I would discuss our days, talk about our hopes. I always felt like I was there, supportive and hopeful that we could always build on the life we’d made so far, to reach greater heights. I believed in you like no other and would have always been there for you. You were everything. There were nights when you stopped under the street light and took out a small flask of whiskey and took a sip. These were moments where I thought I was graced with the most beautiful life in the world. You would take a sip and give a warm smile toward me as your cold breath seeped out into the cold atmosphere and then you would nod down at Duncan who would be crouched over adding some of his own warmth to the evening, which I would need to pick up with a plastic bag. Your laughter would ring out in the quiet night, the sound of magical musical notes filtering up into the world as you leaned back against the lamp post with your smile of silliness. I don’t want to do this anymore. To sit alone at this table watching our dog silently looking out into the street looking for his friend. The person he misses. The love of his life. I want you to walk up these steps again. To join me for a whiskey. Or a coffee if you have given up drinking now, which was always something you talked about. Or. I want to go back in time to standing next to that lamp post. I want to hear that laughter pure and unfiltered through the city night. I want you here. Duncan wants you here. Every word I spoke in our heated nights now lives in my memory like a tattoo of sadness, a regret etched across my heart. I want you here.

[goldstar-angelwings]

I Don’t Want To Change You

Shoulders slumped into the couch as you huddled against the arm and closed your eyes. The beauty which filled your face was natural and without make up. You looked like an angel in the white dress you wore and I knew that the heart that was beating within you was more pure than any other I had ever met.I turned the TV down and looked across at you. Concerned that you looked so tired, so worn out from the week you had been battling through. You noticed the sound lower and opened your eyes to glance over at me. You smiled briefly before closing them again. I continued to stare across at you. A face which I had stared at so many times before and yet still held my gaze, still brightened my day. You chuckled as you realised I was still staring across at you. I shrugged as if I understood I had been caught staring and turned back toward the TV when a foot gently kicked me in the ribs. I looked across at you and saw your smile spreading across your face. You kicked me again. Then again while you began giggling and anticipating my retaliation. I paused as I looked back across at you, then leaped across the couch to grab you and pull you closer. The smile broadened as you leaned against me and sighed. The end of a long week in the arms of someone who cared. I was happy.

[goldstar-angelwings]

Raindrops Of The Future

Rain scattered across the window pane as it tumbled down across the darkened city as you stared out at it and the candle flickered in the back of the room casting shadows across the wall around you. The echoes of a thousand feet passed by on the streets below as a sigh floated from you into the room as you looked back at me. The cup of coffee nestled in your hand allowed the steam to float and curl up into the room as your eyes searched me for an answer to your last question. A question I chose to ignore while I allowed my mind time to process the most fitting answer to give to you. To be honest or tell you a lie which would protect you and eliminate a need for a tortured and needless fight on this peaceful night. A decision my slightly befuddled mind was scrambling around like a tiny inexperienced and inebriated octopus trying desperately to make a right decision in its first throes of life. The whiskeys clouded my mind and blocked my brain from working with any sense of normality, which is not to suggest that it normally functioned in a way I wanted, but that it could normally cope with your direct questions. The candle played shadows across your face as you remained silent apart from the gentle tap of your fingertip on the side of the cup as your eyes remained hidden in the darkness. I knew they were staring intently at me, even in the darkness I could feel their power. They burned into me as the question rattled away from one brain cell to another without returning anything useful.

You turned away from me harshly indicating that my slowness to reply had given you an answer you were already expecting to hear. The truth was that I had been down to the local bar on my way back from the office, a fact you already knew from my slurred speech and legs which refused to allow me to stand straight, but this was not the information which you were concerned about. It was the question of whether she had been there that was causing the tunnel vision as you stared daggers straight at me. No amount of conversations through our recent months had eliminated her from our story, the suspicions which raged around your soul were unfounded but impossible to quell. I had not invited her into our narrative but life has that cruel and unsuspecting way of throwing frayed strands together. A girl who had once shared my life and caused my blistered broken heart had reappeared and seemed intent on causing a second round of trouble as she began hanging out in the bar where my friends drank. Sometimes our enemies can become dangerously close in the simplest of ways and she had managed this by striking up a relationship with my best friend. Someone I had known since the first day of school and who had stood by me every single time I got into trouble.  Tonight had been his birthday which led me to pop my head into the bar on the way home. Shots of alarm rang out in my mind as I stepped in and saw her standing at the bar but as the shots had flowed through glasses as we raised toasts to my friend my mind had slipped into a more peaceful place where I could leave the past behind and accept that I was now in a far stronger place and with someone who meant so much more to me. The drink had managed to make me forget that while I was at peace with this situation a certain person who meant so much to me would be waiting at the flat and would not feel as at ease. The places your mind visited were out of my control and the words I constantly used to reassure you that the past really was the past were always failing me, but standing against the wall for support I stared back at you with a determination filtering into my mind. I stepped forward to move further into the room, grabbing the back of a chair for drunken support and searching for your eyes. You stood in the shadows looking wounded as I shook my head and sighed before stepping across the room in a quick movement to take your shoulders in my hands and pull you close. This moment was bound to play on repeat over the next few months but I would fight tooth and nail to pass this riptide and keep you here in my life. The past was the past and I was staring into the eyes of my future.

[goldstar-angelwings]

Misery

I know there were times you hated me. I know there were times when you didn’t. My mind can flitter between the two and find a peace in the middle. Even now, now that it’s over and only the ghost of you remains here. The hairband you dropped one morning rushing to work. The Green tea you convinced me to try when you worried about my health. You no longer worry about my health. You no longer worry about me. Now a steady stream of drinks crowd my flat as the debris faces me each morning, where you once faced me in the morning. The repetition of an endless hopelessness. Of a hope that’s faded. Crumpled and died as I stood waiting for you to change your mind and return. Misery melts around me as I soldier on, battling each and every lonely day that explodes and falters like a lit match.

[goldstar-angelwings]

Paint your face

Get up. Get yourself dressed. Leave my place and move on. These days have been real but the daylight has arrived and it is time for you to tie your hair back up and paint your face again. I hope you’ll find yourself a handsome young man and find the future that this world promised you. There will always be a darkness in the lightest of moments and as your eyes cloud over behind the smile this is goodbye.

[goldstar-angelwings]

My attempt at goodbye - Robin Williams

Heroes are strange things. People that you admire that often you never truly know. When I was a manic wild child of a teenager I found a friend in a character called Mork. He was an alien and yet was everything I hoped I could one day be. I would sit on the settee watching the zaniness of this character and believe in him, laugh at him and completely wish that we were friends.

As I grew up I came to follow the man who created the zany character and discovered that through other performances he maybe was many elements of Mork, while also being someone so much more. A man who could turn laughter and light into more darker and challenging performances, perhaps all shadows of who he was.

But through all of these different guises remained a man who shone, shone in a way that so many great actors can. Ones who can morph into different roles and yet bring something so powerful and charismatic that it creates moments that stay with us forever.

Sadly Mork maybe never truly found his understanding of Earth and its people, but I hope that wherever he is now he finds his way back home to Ork.

[goldstar-angelwings]

Meteors

The meteors are coming as the mascara runs down your face,

These moments hit us hard and at a frantic pace,

There were once diamonds in your eyes, which daggers now replace,

A transcendent sparkle that filled your soul with grace.

[goldstar-angelwings]

VENOM (A story of Victoria or victory)

You were always battered, bruised and a delicate snowball of sadness

Leaving trails across town as the storms rolled in,

And the lights sparked on as people huddled together for warmth.

  We never talked properly but I always saw the sadness in your eyes,

The hurt you hid away from the crowd,

As it caught in the light and the shimmer of tears you wiped away.

  Questions bounced around our conversations unanswered,

You hated having to give reasons for things you had done,

Or words you had said in harsh moments.

  You would swallow spirits each night while spitting out lies,

Letting cigarettes burn out in strangers ashtrays,

As you crashed their parties.

  Never satisfied that life would give you all you deserved,

You set out to claim it all anyway you could,

Making you dangerous and volatile.

  A creature of wild venom cursing any that stood in your way,

Car crashes, explosions and murder all tame in your warpath,

As you took revenge on anyone who did you harm.

  A frightened animal changed into a savage beast,

Who none could tame or ever save,

As the inner torment took its final grip.  

  They say special people never die,

But I have never been sure if you fitted that category,

But you were wild, compulsive and captivating to ride alongside.

[goldstar-angelwings]

SACRED SOUL DIVA

We used to run riots through the streets into the late nights,

Drinking under streetlights,

Using barbed words to win our fights,

While laughter filled our souls and we bounced through bars,

Mixing drinks along with madness in a cacophony of electricity and love

  But she was always with us,

A silent ghost who held the crowd,

And held us together,

A gang bound together by her hypnotic spirit,

The flicker of mischief in her smile,

The scowl of concentration on her face,

As she watched over us like an angel as we slowly fell from grace.

  We used to think we had it all,

When all we ever had was each other,

Down on money, down on luck,

Dreamers looking for a life to lead,

A future to believe,

And a hope to hang our hats on.

  But she was always with us,

Leading us from dangerous places to safety,

Elegance in her world,

Kindness in her soul as she guided us through the city,

A sweep of her hand pulling her hair from her face,

As a smile slowly crept across it,

A beaming spark of light leading us through the night.

  Shouted arguments in silent streets,

Waking neighbours from their sleep,

We never had time for the circus of the city,

As we battled our darkened days,

Betraying ourselves and all we held dear,

In an effort to find our place.

  But she was always with us,

A sacred soul diva who carried mischief in her eyes,

Lipstick that glittered like gold,

As her lips so easily spun lies,

That we fell hook, line and sinker for,

A clever clown of chaos who smiled so sweetly.

Yet held us all together in our broken days.

This is for the memory of those days and for the memory of our friend and her sweet soldier spirit.

[goldstar-angelwings]

THE HEART OF KATHMANDU

10:15 in Kathmandu and the night was filled with the sounds of parties. Manic taxi drivers navigating wild darken streets as people mingle from shops and bars and the sound of laughter raises from groups of Nepalese guys walking around in sandals and jeans, while nursing cigarettes that light up their faces as the red ember glows.

I poured more of my Gurka beer into the glass and thought about the words I was trying to write, an account of my recent trek out of Pokahara into the Himalayas. A gruelling four day trek that had led me through harsh rain, snowstorms and a insane thunder and lightning storm that had left me battered and bruised, albeit with a wild sense of accomplishment on my face.

You were sitting a couple of tables across from me at the Kathmandu Guesthouse bar. I had seen you walk outside with your laptop and as it had powered up it illuminated your face, your black hair fell down around your tanned face as you casually rubbed your chin while staring at the screen. I found my focus shifting from my words and across to you as I sat drinking and wondering what led you to this city.

Suddenly everything plunged into darkness and the city appeared to fall silent. A couple of seconds passed before the sound of generators began kicking into life and the music started up as lights flicked back on. A roar of laughter seemed to trickle around us as people found the party spirit again and things kicked back into fun.

A barman from the hotel came over to explain that the electricity works on a grid system and that in order to save the power, there is a load shedding system, which means that different districts get power at different times. The power had just shifted to another district and all the local bars had just switched to generators.

I found myself staring down the street at the local bars and the lights bursting from them. In the corner of my eye I sensed you looking over at me, before turning to smile at you. You smiled back and then said ‘Shall we head out and get a drink together?’

Having dumped our laptops at the hotel we ventured out of the hotel compound and into the hectic street. The heat from the day had subsided but it was still plenty warm enough. You told me your name was Jessica, while your New York accent came across strong as you continued pointing down the street to ask where we should head. I mentioned a bar I had tried on my first night in Kathmandu, a popular place for Western travellers and locals.

We chatted as we wandered down the street filled with stores selling locally made T-shirts, scarfs, bags and pray flags. The colourful displays helped give the streets a brightness that was lacking due to no streetlights. Cars and motorbikes attempted to snake between all of the pedestrians. It was a frantic street to walk down, but as your laughter filtered between it all I found myself drawn to this world.

Sam’s Bar sat on the roof of a dark building, a darkened alleyway acting as the entrance leading us up flights of stairs to the candle lit rooftop. The sounds of the city seemed quieter here as the gentle rock music played as a man led us to a table in the corner, partly hidden by darkness and away from the crowds. The candle caught the smile on your face as you took your seat.

Our beers flowed quickly as our conversations floated by comfortably as you talked about your life back in New York and I compared it to mine in London. You worked as a pet sitter, taking dogs for walks, feeding cats and looking after pets while the owner went away on holidays. I talked about my role in the music industry and how disillusioned I had become. With that comment you reached your hand across to mine and told me there was still time to change life and achieve new things. It was a good point and one that I needed to take on board.

Different beers and spirits found their way to our table as we continued drinking. You had a way of making a comment and then retracting it immediately. You would suggest a certain spirit and then shrug as you would ask if I actually wanted another drink, smiling happily when I agreed that I did. You did the same thing when you suggested we head back to the hotel together, before saying unless I wanted to stay out longer. The way your face caught in the candlelight as the flames gave it an orange warmth and your eyes remained dark and mysterious led me to the obvious answer. As your smile broadened we paid our bill and drunkenly slipped back into the manic streets of Kathmandu. 

[goldstar-angelwings]

HELL IN THE HEARTBREAK

You know you suffered more than most. In the darkness you hid the tears.

It was never love only a curse.

But you held me tight making the world seem right,

I thought I could help

Like some mystic ghost I hung around

Spouting words of wisdom

That fell on vacant ears

Too tormented by history to receive them

Searching for dreams that had faded

Into a murky horizon.

  I would call you on the phone. Searching for love in-between the static.

It was never love only a curse

We’d get the last train home filling it with laughter

I was a jester surrounded by confusion

Making confessions

While you would abuse them

Shouting harsh words at me in amber lit streets

Killing any notion of hope.

  We used to pretend to be free. Letting life lead us through city streets

It was never love only a curse

In a bar you spiked my drink once.

But spiked my heart so many more times.

You hid behind a mask of crazy

Leaping into any random spirit that hounded you

Pulling you into moods of shade and light

With a smile that burned so bright

  No-one could save you and me. We were destined to fail

It was never love only a curse

Caged lions seem tame

Compared to the wildness in your heart

That gnawed at chains that bound you

And betrayed you

While your bite was truly brutal,

Infectious and fatal

  One day we must all fall. But our descent was gradual and painful

It was never love only a curse

As the radiant smile dimmed

And the laughter faded

We became strangers once more

Individuals on separate paths

Guided by different goals

With new hands to hold

But you will always be there in a hidden part of my soul.

[goldstar-angelwings]

MORNING LIGHT

It was a ray of light that used to shine into our bedroom

It used to light up your face as you slept in the mornings

It was the thing that made everything so peaceful and easy

but now its gone and so are you.

[goldstar-angelwings]

THE GHOST OF SEQUENCE

You rattle my soul like a ghost insane,

While acoustic dreams fill my mind,

With maddening screams of joy,

Of your delicate smile and sinister secrets,

As the hands that hold me tight,

Betray the mouth that lies so sweet,

As elegant suggestions creep and gnaw,

At my brain as it explodes,

In a technicolor chaos of momentum,

As we spiral into a deep well,

Of uncertainty and corruption,

With all the hope failing into the night,

As amber glows shine on us,

In darkened bars full of broken souls,

Lost, rejected or at the end,

Of everything that held them dear,

A lost past that they will never visit again,

Except in their drunken mind,

That seeps and leaks of hope,

A fiery despair that follows them,

For this day and the next,

Until all untold becomes forgotten,

And they disappear into folklore,

Like the story that we are spinning in,

A confused maze of games,

Confusing and exciting,

Guessing that never strikes true,

Moves that confound and entice,

Feelings that rise and soar,

Dragging daggers across broken sores,

As nails dig deeper,

Than the soul can hide from,

Rockets of regret fire at us,

As words stem from loose tongues,

And we carry on over and over again,

Never moving forward and never going back,

A relationship on the rocks,

Pounded by the sea of sequence,

As it plays on repeat,

With no hope of an end,

Or escape from the labyrinth,

With no hope of an end,

It plays on endless repeats. 

[goldstar-angelwings]

Last Rites

This is the story that we never finished. My last rites were read to me in the backseat of your battered car as I leaned against the worn old seat with my mind clouded by beer. That was back in 2004. I had long hair back then and a belief that life was going to deliver on the promise that I would be a success. It was that belief that mixed with the beer to give me an over confident and arrogant attitude as you broke down next to me. I remember my hand picked at the frayed hole in the knee of my jeans in an effort to avoid looking at you. Rain thumped down on the roof of the car and the darkness surrounded us. I remembered thinking about the beat that the rain was playing and wondering how it would fit into a new song I had just written. Mainly I remember that I was focusing on anything around me apart from you.

The truth is that I fell apart after that night. I walked around like a man dead to the world and everything in it. I was a cloud of smoke filtering through the lives of the people close to me. My arrogant attitude quickly died as I spiralled into a mix of alcohol and chaotic parties with no joy in them other than offering other lost souls to hang with. The band I was in broke up. I joined others, but nothing ever stuck. I was a man down on his luck. A man so unaccustomed to the world around him that alcohol became the only true friend. I did mad things and things that made people mad. I left everyone I knew behind and headed into a dark world of nothingness.

It was the moment when I realised that I missed you that my life changed. It turned around. It became stronger. I knew I had blown a moment but somehow in realising this it allowed me to focus on myself and to realise that the only person who had blown it was me and that the only person responsible for letting it happen was me. Maybe not a big shock to an outsider but it was to me. I was sitting in some bar and had been for many hours. The empty glasses on the table in front of me a testament to my many hours of drinking, while the empty seat next to me a testament to what bad company I was in those days. As I took a swig of beer I thought of you. The smile. The laugh. The way you used to mock me when I said something I thought was profound and you would just tell me I was stoned. But most of all, I remembered your kindness. The way you would care about me and look out for me. There had never been many people doing that. That was the moment that kicked me out of the darkness. It was the moment I realised I had destroyed something good in my life. It was the moment that I kick the drinking and found focus.

I went out and got a job. Not a glamorous job like I spent years dreaming of, but a job that actually paid my rent and got my landlord off my back. I worked hard and poured my energy into earning enough money to buy equipment for my music. Where once I had sold my guitar for a bottle of Jack Daniels, now I managed to buy a new one, which I spent one late evening spray painting it up to give it a unique look. I figured there was no point in venturing into the world of music if your guitar lacked its own unique look. But most importantly I wrote. I wrote so many new songs. They seemed to flow out of me all the time. I would wonder supermarket aisles while singing new lyrics to myself. It was cathartic but also necessary as it allowed me to address the mistakes I made with you. You were always present in all the songs. One after another they came to life and I started to record them.

It was at this point that another turn of events came about. People started turning up at my flat to get involved in my project. Musicians I had lost touch with seemed to find out about it and rock up at my door and offer help. Soon there was a regular gang of us dragging our equipment out to the nearest park for a jam or down to some back room bar that would let us practice. Somehow and in a way I am not sure how it came about I suddenly had a band working with me. We became a tight outfit as we ploughed through the songs and managed to discard some of the weaker ones. Then we realised that we had a set. We had formed a tight band with a strong collection of songs. The natural step forward was to start gigging.

The first few gigs bombed. I was terrible in front of the three or four people that turned out to see us. But slowly I sort of got it. I got some of my old arrogance back, which allowed me to stand in front of an audience and believe in the material. I guess in truth the material sort of spoke for itself. A battered collection of songs about a girl who like a ghost in my life still hovered around and influenced it. People started heading down to our gigs and things took on a sort of magic I could never have expected. The band became more than that, we became firm friends and a support unit for each other. It was a strong year in the history of my life and the one where I became the man I wanted to be. I was open to new people and open to what life throws at you. But throughout that period it was always you who I acknowledged for getting me there. Every gig I stood up and sung those words that to each person watching held a meaning, but to me meant every apology I have ever wanted to say.

I would have been happy enough to continue dragging those songs around town and playing to new people for the rest of my life. I felt alive. I felt alive that night that I stepped off the small stage at the back of the Camel bar and stepped into the private room we had booked for an after party and met you again.

My shirt was covered in sweat and my face covered with a grin as I walked up to the bar for my drink. As I leaned on the bar barely aware of a woman standing beside me and flagged down the barman I felt a strange tension around me. People I knew were looking over at me with a look bordering on concern. There was still noise in the bar, but a certain hush had descended around me. As I glanced around the bar I became aware of you next to me. An uncertain smile spread across your face as you noticed my reaction. For close to thirty minutes I had stood on stage singing out words, but suddenly I was totally lost for them. The years had been kind to you, very kind indeed. The smile still had such power. The eyes seemed to stay on me as you gauged my reaction. People all around seemed to watch me for my reaction. The moment had power. My mind raced for words. The barman stood in front of me looking bemused as he raised his eyebrows in question.

Then eventually I began to react. A slow smile crept across my face. My hand reached out and rubbed your arm to support the smile and then the moment was broken and people continued their conversations. Meanwhile you and I held each other’s gaze as the years seemed to melt away and we were back in some random bar from our past. We both ordered drinks and slipped into a quieter shadow to talk. The hours floated past and we found each other’s laughter again as we spoke and a closeness that I had missed seemed to creep back into my life.          

This is the story that we never finished.

[goldstar-angelwings]

YOU AND THE BEE

You were standing smiling when it happened. In the park with the sun shining down on us as the city moved peacefully around us. You had blue jeans and a white shirt on, while a straw hat attempted to hide your blonde hair. In that moment your smile faded in the blink of an eye and was replaced with one of horror. Your eyes seemed trapped on a vision towards your white shirt as a large bee landed on it. A scream omitted from your mouth as everything seemed to move in slow motion. Your arms began flapping around like a swan attempting to take off, while the scream slowly reached my ears. The bee seemed oblivious to all the commotion and continued strolling across the whiteness of your shirt, as if on a day trip of happiness. As your scream died down it seemed to want to hide from everything and stepped closer to the gap between your buttons. This move was not appreciated by you as you began giving me frantic orders to help. I rushed forward with uncertainty as the bee stepped out of view underneath your shirt. You began to show a lot more concern at this latest development and begged me to help by unbuttoning your shirt. In a move more delicate than any surgeon I moved my hands to the buttons and began to gently unbutton them. A difficult task made harder by the pitch of your yelling and because the bee remained hidden underneath the clothing . With care and dedication I quickly unbuttoned all the buttons to reveal your suntanned skin and bright coloured bra as an innocent bee decided that there were better things in life than just hanging around all day and flew off. You leaned over and hugged me with all the thanks you could communicate in a hug, until we became aware of a slightly more awkward situation. We were two mid-thirty year olds embracing in a park while one of us had their shirt unbuttoned and a bight coloured bra on display, while around us families, teenagers and elderly couples stared over at us. Embarrassed grins helped in part to show our apologies as you buttoned up and we quickly took off.