The sun is out. It’s three o’ clock in the afternoon. It’s a Sunday. I stare at the benches along the strip. The light bounces off the ground, turning the glass panels into mirrors. There is a slight breeze. I’m listening to Morrissey. Beware, he sings, I bear more grudges than high court judges. I wish I was at the Cote d’ Azur, wherever that is.
Showing posts from July, 2011
I realized how much I love the boyfriend when I asked about the contents of his netbook. I know that it is a silly thing to do because why would I care about what he puts inside his portable computer when what I should only be caring about are the contents of his heart. But I guess when you are in love you want to know your lover completely. It's like having a new apartment and wanting to inspect every nook and cranny, flashing a light at the dimmed parts, looking for places to hide in and wondering if there are ghosts and if they are haunting still. I don't know about others but this is the way I love. I do know that the request itself is intrusive but it was a genuinely innocent request. I just wanted to know what he keeps inside his folders or if he downloads more pictures than books, videos more than music. And so he gave me a tour, opening the folders and showing me pictures, letting me read his works and in the end revealing poems that were meant for his previous lovers.…