If I remember correctly it was raining and I was holding the umbrella for both of us. I kept it for myself, but why weren’t you nice enough to hold it, I never asked. It was november and I didn’t have my gloves on so I was freezing my fingers even though I had to use them later that night. You forget I play the piano better than you. You forget, and it’s really ironic, because whenever you invited me over at your house it was mostly to have me playing the piano until four in the morning. You came back with a big smile on your face every time somebody knocked the door to say please stop playing that shit. I kept it for myself too, but why were you smiling, I never asked. I may had been too polite around you. Too bad, you never knew the other side of myself –the one who can yell and break bones and hearts and souls. It was easy to tell who’s who in the dark, all I had to do was reach out my arm and look for yours under the sheets. It wasn’t easy when it was empty and I only found my other arm, lonely and cold by the side of the wall that I was going to paint for you. That same night I painted it all white again and decided to draw something else on it. It was also an existential decision, an attempt to erase you from the wall in the bedroom first, and then from everything else.
Created: Jun 04, 2010Document Media