I wrote this for you, p.3

I Wrote This for You, page 3


I Wrote This for You

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  “No,” says the universe. “I sold you that one so you would know that this, this is the one.”

  “Is there another one?” I ask the universe.

  “I can’t tell you,” they reply. “It’d ruin the surprise.”

  The Arrivals Lounge


  Thursday, October 13, 2011

  A plane landed and a man in a scruffy coat leaned forward and wondered if this was the one. People got off and walked into the large, gleaming white terminal, where they were either met by others (some in tears but everyone smiling) or if no one was there to greet them, they looked around, shrugged, sat down in one of the long rows of aluminum chairs and either listened to music or read a book or just stared off into the distance in the kind of shell shock that normally comes from long distance travel. Several made phone calls. One, for whatever strange reason, tried to go back through the gate, to get back on the plane. Security, gently, held him at bay.

  The old man had seen it all before but he didn’t mind waiting. He’d gotten quite good at it. There were exactly 128 chairs in terminal D. The roof had exactly 864 crisscrossing tiles. The planes landed every 11 hours, 59 minutes and 59 seconds. He knew. He’d had enough time to count. He read the paper. It was always the same paper, but each day, there was always a different story about someone he knew on the front page.

  Exactly 11 hours, 59 minutes and 59 seconds later, he was too absorbed in the paper and the lullaby of the announcer coming over the terminal speakers to notice the small, diminutive female form standing next to him.

  “Hello,” she said.

  He looked up from his paper.

  “I think I know you.”

  “Yes, I think you do,” he replied.

  “You once swapped your last packet of cigarettes for a bicycle, in the middle of the war, then rode it for five hours to see me.”

  “I think that was me. I can’t remember. I think we ran a grocery store together. I remember cobblestone streets and a newsagent next door. The children would buy comic books. There was a harbour.”

  “I think that happened.”

  There was a silence.

  “How was your flight?” he finally asked.

  “Good. There was some turbulence towards the end but other than that it was fine.”

  She rubbed her arms.

  “Did you get everything done that you needed to do?”

  “Quite a bit. Most of it I think.”

  “Well, that’s all you can really ask for.”

  “I suppose so. The tea was nice.”

  “That’s good then,” he said with a smile.

  “Are we supposed to get a taxi now?”

  “No, not yet I don’t think.”

  “Then what do we do?”

  He cleared some space next to him on the aluminum chair then took his coat off and scrunched it up to make a pillow.

  “I think we’re meeting someone.”

  “Oh. Will we have to wait long?”

  “No. Not in the greater scheme of things. They serve tea, just ask for one when the woman comes round with the tray.”

  “Is it good?”

  “The best you’ve ever tasted.”

  By the time the next plane landed, she’d fallen asleep on his shoulder.

  The Way Glass Breaks


  Monday, February 7, 2011

  This is the song I only sing when you’re sleeping. These are the words I say when you can’t hear me. This is the way I look when you can’t see me. And you will never know.

  The Sparks In The Ceiling


  Monday, August 24, 2009

  The sky was made so clear that sometimes, at night, you can see the far blue edge of forever behind distant suns. Yet, nothing’s that clear here, and I’m sitting right next to you.

  The Lack Of Apologies


  Friday, May 15, 2009

  No matter how you stack me. No matter how you arrange me. No matter how you look at me. I am still here and I am still the same person made of the same things. I regret nothing.

  The Distance From Here To Autumn


  Monday, July 19, 2010

  I wondered if every road was connected to every other road. I wondered if I touched it, if maybe somewhere, you would know.

  The Best Of Us


  Tuesday, February 7, 2017

  I whisper because some part of me wants you to whisper too.

  Because I want you to tell me secrets.

  Because sometimes, our secrets are the best parts of us.

  The First Day On Earth


  Monday, July 30, 2012

  Firstly, you need to relax. I know it’s not as warm as it once was but you get used to the cold and warmth can be found in the people around you. Secondly, do not get used to crying to get things. Some people never grow out of it. Avoid them. Spend time around people who smile in the face of despair. Learn from them all you can. Everyone is a lesson. A story. A unique and wondrous perspective on the chaos that is human existence. The more people you talk to, the more you understand it. But never speak if you have the opportunity to listen. Especially if you want someone to like you. There’s nothing you can say that’ll endear someone to you as much as really and truly listening to them. You are on day one of a sometimes remarkable, sometimes terrible, sometimes beautiful, strange and always completely unknown journey. Be ok with this. Worrying about what happens next will ruin the surprise. You will meet strange people along the way, some good, some bad. This is a pattern that will more than likely repeat constantly as you grow up. Some things will be good, some things will be bad. Neither will ever last forever. Nothing will stay the same. Appreciate every moment of happiness and remember it when you despair. Hold them close. And when you are happy, remember the moments of despair and think to yourself, “I told you so.” Never let someone else define you. You are your own creation and only you decide how you feel, who you are and what you want. This can be scary at first but it is liberating to truly and utterly embrace your own identity. People who hate you for not being like them are not worth hating back. Please, let go of hate whenever you can. Accept love whenever it is given and give it out freely. It is the most powerful force on Earth.

  Enjoy your stay.

  The Reflection In Someone Else’s Eyes


  Monday, September 7, 2015

  There is an innocent but selfish part of you that wants to love and be loved because you know being loved will make you want to be worthy of being loved.

  There is a part of you that just wants to see the kind of person you could be, through someone else’s eyes.

  The Strange Reflections


  Monday, October 31, 2016

  Somehow, the worst that could happen, is both seeing you and never seeing you again.

  The Shapes Left Behind


  Tuesday, December 3, 2013

  You should not look for me in the places I once was. Look for me in the places I am now. In soft rain.

  On starlit oceans.

  The Mist Descends


  Monday, October 3, 2011

  If you think I can tell you what’s going on inside my heart, you know even less about it than you think.

  The Importance Of Breaking Things And People


  Friday, March 16, 2012

  Just so you know, there are certain people who were put here to break you.

  So you could learn how to pull yourself back together again.

  The Circus Is Cheaper When It Rains


  Wednesday, July 7, 2010

  I’ve taken the same ride too many times.

  I could fall asleep in the loop.

  I know the clowns wipe the fake, makeup smiles off their faces once the show is done.

  I know the lions sleep in cages at night.

  I know the tight
rope walkers have blisters on their feet.

  I know the ringmaster doesn’t believe in what he yells to the crowd anymore.

  I know the strongman, isn’t as strong as he once was.

  I know the candy floss has always been, just sugar and air.

  You are the only reason I come back here every night.

  The Hardest You Could Be


  Wednesday, December 16, 2009

  And you will find no fear here, in unkind words or the hardness of others.

  And you will find no sadness here, in the meanness of the world, in the anger that comes from those who feel small.

  And you will find no hurt here, in a million insults or a single, softly spoken lie.

  Because only a hard heart shatters.

  Only a hard heart, breaks.

  The Ship Made Of Broken Parts Can Still Go Anywhere


  Monday, September 17, 2012

  You only fix the things you feel deserve to be fixed, as if you’re a special kind of person who doesn’t deserve to sort their own life out because of who they are. Like your brokenness is a symptom of being you.

  “I can let that wait, I don’t need to do this because I don’t deserve to have it done. My life is always only ever incomplete.”

  And yet, no one deserves the full benefit of being you, more than you.

  The Anxiety Inherent In Air


  Thursday, June 5, 2014

  If you must know, this is what I’m scared of. I’m scared that everyone else is more who they are than I am who I am. I think everyone else just looks at the things they feel or think and says, “Of course this is what I feel or think, this is who I am.”

  But I am never sure of what I feel or think.

  And I’m scared because I’m holding all the things I could feel or think on a boat that the slightest breeze could tip over and if that happens, I will fall with all of it into the water. I am scared I will be left with nothing and no idea who I am.

  I am scared of the wind.

  The Day Time Waited For Me


  Monday, May 10, 2010

  And so, I wait because you have already left and my work here, is done. I wait and wonder how my skin feels like it’s made of love letters written a hundred years too soon (too late). I wonder at the mystery of life and how much of it can possibly remain. I wonder at pain and hurt and love and time and how much of each I held. I wonder at how I cannot remember anything in my life before I met you. I wonder at the tiniest of touches and try, desperately, to keep their memories alive. I wonder at loneliness. I wonder at how long it’ll be, before I see you again. I wait. And I wonder.

  The Rules Of Engagement


  Thursday, August 13, 2009

  All persons entering a heart do so at their own risk. Management can and will be held responsible for any loss, love, theft, ambition or personal injury. Please take care of your belongings. Please take care of the way you look at me. No roller skating, kissing, smoking, fingers through hair, 3am phone calls, stained letters, littering, unfeeling feelings, a smell left on a pillow, doors slammed, lyrics whispered, or loitering.

  Thank you.

  The Gone


  Saturday, November 17, 2007

  When they are gone, you will remember every single opportunity you had to speak to them. And didn’t.

  The Flanking Positions


  Sunday, May 10, 2009

  Let them hate you but let it be because you are a good person in a bad world and bad always hates good.

  The B Train


  Monday, August 9, 2010

  I’d leave the memory of you at the station, if it didn’t already know the way home.

  The Haunted Quiet


  Tuesday, August 25, 2015

  You’re wrong. Happiness isn’t forgetting. Happiness is finding new things to remember.

  The Worst I’ve Felt


  Tuesday, May 17, 2011

  You’ll kiss them, even though you can see they’re sick. Even though you know they’ll make you sick.

  The Screaming Mob


  Friday, July 24, 2009

  People will wish you all the success in the world. And then hate you when you get it.

  The Notes Before Now


  Tuesday, July 12, 2016

  The Story Can Neither Be Created Nor Destroyed


  Thursday, October 25, 2012

  As you fall, remember that you are part of a beautiful story that did not start when you were born.

  Remember that you are the universe exhaling, a breeze waiting to blow across a field of tall grass.

  Remember, you are part of a beautiful story that did not start when you were born.

  As your body cuts through the air, think of only the things that made you smile, the people that made you love, the ideas that made you strong.

  Remember, those things will never happen again but they cannot unhappen.

  Remember, you are part of a beautiful story that did not start when you were born.

  Remember, what you felt can’t ever be taken away.

  Remember, you are part of a beautiful story that did not start when you were born.

  And it will not end when you die.


  The Children Of Time


  Tuesday, April 27, 2010

  January has issues with her mother, February is always talking about things he wants to do while March does them, April eats sweets and May pays for them, June is the oldest but not the wisest and July always has an opinion on everything. August never stops trying do the right thing, even if he doesn’t always know what that is. September once saw something so sad, she never stopped crying. October holds the lift for anyone, vice-presidents and street-sweepers alike (for his memory, not for theirs) and November makes fun of him for this. December is tired but always hopeful. He has never once stopped believing.

  Monday’s obviously a bastard, quite literally as dad can’t remember what or who he was doing. Tuesday’s temperamental but ok as long as you stay on her good side. Wednesday doesn’t say much and Thursday sometimes hums just to break the silence. They’re in love. Friday’s always wasted and she and Saturday hold each other tightly until their delirium fades.

  But Sunday, Sunday knows she’s the end. But she closes her eyes, and she pretends with all the strength in her tiny heart that really, she’s the dawn.

  The Last Land I Stood On


  Monday, August 6, 2012

  And my fingers are ships sailing on your skin, slowly drifting and hoping against hope that they fall off the edge of the Earth.

  And your heart is nothing but the gravity pulling me towards you.

  The Missing Exclamation Marks


  Monday, November 23, 2009

  You’re ok. Breathe. Just breathe. Open your eyes. Come back. It’s ok. It’s over now. You’re ok. Wake up. Please wake up. Don’t do this to me. Don’t do this to me. Don’t do this to me. I love you so fucking much. Come back.

  The Moments That Matter


  Thursday, December 1, 2016

  Remember the person that you are, in the moments that you aren’t.

  The Heart Cannot Be Discounted


  Monday, September 3, 2012

  If they put you back on the shelf, in exchange for someone else, don’t worry.

  I promise: Someone better’s coming along.

  The Complications Start With You


  Tuesday, April 29, 2014

  Here is the simple truth about people:

  Love the ones you want to keep.

  The Craft


  Monday, September 17, 2007

  Science and art. Washing dishes and addi
ng numbers. Driving taxis and sailing ships. Find what you love. It doesn’t matter what it is or how much money you’ll make or what people will think of you. Just find it and hold on tightly.

  The Secret Zodiac


  Tuesday, January 13, 2015

  The stars that guide you might be too far away to ever see.

  Maybe there’s some bright, secret sunlight somewhere in the universe that understands you, and knows what’s going on.

  The Sky Has Weight


  Monday, May 25, 2015

  If you carry someone in your heart for too long, it will become heavy.

  The Few And The Fewer


  Tuesday, July 6, 2010

  You can make the world beautiful just by refusing to lie about it.

  The View From The Hospital


  Wednesday, January 4, 2012

  If you can’t let go, you can’t put your heart back in your chest.

  The Lying Tree


  Thursday, March 3, 2011

  The least you could do, is uncross your heart. Unhope to die.

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