Things I Know

I know if I put a little bit of black pencil underneath my eyes, it makes me look like I haven’t been awake all night.

I know that when I’m driving and I can feel tears starting to come, if I press the sides of my face with my hands, I can make them stop long enough for me to buy what I need and get home again.

It doesn’t matter what music I play – that’s stopped working. I know it’ll work again. Just not now.

I know it isn’t always going to feel this shit

I know someone will eventually buy my house, and when that happens, I know there’ll be a moment – a split second of remembering what I’d planned to do – but by then I’ll be able to shrug it off. This can’t last forever.

I know that the spring’s coming, and soon the long light evenings too, and I know that’ll do something to me inside – make things easier. It’s always easier in the sunshine

I know exactly how much to eat to stop myself feeling dizzy.

I know I’m not stupid. I choose not to be cynical, but that doesn’t mean I’m stupid. I have no regrets – about any of it.

I know I have choices that most people don’t have – that I’m unbelievably lucky, even today I know that much.

I want to run away. Somewhere hot, where everyone will leave me alone. And there are a few other things I want right now, but I don’t know where to find them. That’s a mixed blessing.

I want to pack a small bag and go – just go. And I could, except I don’t know where.

She called me - Marnie. And I didn’t answer – I couldn’t. But then she called me again, and again – on my mobile, and my home phone, and then my mobile again, and she emailed me – and I could see how distressed she was – “Please, please call me. Please.” So I did in the end. I couldn’t leave her like that.

“You’re all alone. Shall I come there? Would you like me to be with you? You should have someone there with you…”

She’s crying. I can hear it in the way her voice breaks every now and again. I think she’s slightly drunk too.

I press the sides of my face with my hands – hard - and I say “It’s so kind of you – really sweet. I’m so grateful. I’m okay though – really.”

The last thing I want is Marnie here – sympathising. I would get drunk with someone who laughs a lot. Someone with kind eyes. I would give the world for a hug - or more. But I don’t want sympathy.

“What is he playing at – that’s what I want to know. You mustn’t give up – don’t give up!”

I don’t think she really understands what’s happened. I take a deep breath, try, gently, to explain again – it’s not about me giving up.

After a while I think she gets it – finally - and then she starts again, about how I shouldn’t be on my own, about her coming here to be with me, and by this time I am pressing so hard it hurts. Eventually she gives up. She says “ I want you to call me tomorrow,” and I tell her I will, but it’s a lie: I have no intention of calling her. I hope she’ll understand - forgive me. I’ll call her when things get better – I know they will. Just not right now.