sexta-feira, 18 de janeiro de 2013

Home


Everything changes. All the time. He had missed her. “It´s alright to say it”, he thought to himself. Of all the things that went through his head, this one felt right. “I hope you mean it as a friend”. Is there another way to miss a person? A whole person? He didn´t say “I miss your lips” though he did. He didn´t say “I miss your body close to mine” though he did. He didn´t even say “I miss the peace of mind that being with you brings me”. And he missed that last one more than the others. No. He simply said “I missed you”. He felt that meant the company. The actual presence of the person. And in the end, a friend is all you can hope someone is to you. The rest can be tainted. Broken. Forgotten. The rest is lust.
He didn´t feel at home. He wished he could relate to that Metallica song that said “Where I lay my head is home”. But he didn´t. He felt more like Silverchair´s “Body and soul, I´m a freak. I´m a freak. If only I could be as cool as you.” He sang that and felt like shit. A creep, a weirdo. “What the hell am I doing here.” But he had to stay. Sleeping in a room with 7 other guys. Away from the place he likes to lay his head. Where he felt like being friends with the king. But then again, what makes home? He felt at home in her hips. Comfortable. Happy.
Now we have him walking around town. Aimlessly. “Nothing happens if there´s no chance of nothing happening. It sounds obvious, but how long do we keep on waiting for magical solutions?” Not that he felt that walking was leading him somewhere. It just felt better than sitting on the bed. There´s always a bar, though.
He ordered another drink and looked around. She was alone. He was drunk. “I´m waiting for my girlfriend” she said. “Oh, sorry then.” “No, I didn´t mean it like that.” Her name was Nancy. “Very American”, he thought. They kissed. Briefly. It didn´t feel like nothing more than shaking hands. “It was a great kiss, though” she said. He just wanted to get home. To her hips. Hers, not these. Home.

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