Far From The Coast

So it’s a Wednesday evening and I’m walking back from the docks thinking of the places I’d like to take her. I’ve been restless all day. The first thought I had this morning, even before the sun had risen, was of us walking through the lantern lit streets, talking about a film we watched the other night. This calm dream was interrupted by my phone ringing. I have this new phone which has a very clear ring. It was my friend, he had been up all night and was afraid he would not be able to sleep for some time. I asked him why and he laughed, saying he was with his ex-girlfriend. He need not say more, because I knew his ex did a lot of coke, and stayed up for days at a time. He had been hanging out with her lately. I tried to changen the subject. He continued talking nonetheless and told me some of the things she had said throughout the night and early morning. But that’s not what I want to talk about. I want to talk to my girl. It’s been a brutal day, and I need to see her. The water seems so much colder now when I leave our apartment with her still there, sleeping. Long seconds alone and quick hours with her has been my life for not long enough. Tonight I will speak to her quietly. While we sip our drinks out on the balcony. I will tell her the truth. When she met me I was drunk and sad, starring out into the darkness of the park. I had become shallow, so empty. I read her some lines I had scribbled on a train schedule. She loved it. I followed her home and I have never left that room, even when I am out, far from the coast…