The ears have walls

Monday, July 04, 2005

I don't know why she makes me feel the way she does. It's as if I can see exactly how this is going to end - the tears and desperate phonecalls and bottomless longing that weighs on me and pins me to the ground - and yet I just can't stop myself or pull myself away. This is not a feeling I'm comfortable with but yet the more helpless I feel the more I find myself drawn to her and it's like being in a car-wreck that you know is happening and everything is in slow-motion and there seems to be these moments of lucidity when you realise that it all is going to shit.
We met under the strangest of circumstances. I took a liking to one of her friends in a bar the night before St. Paddy's and hardly noticed the small, beautiful girl trying to meet my gaze from across the room. A week or so later and an anonymous message on my phone asking me to meet her led to a frenzied and secretive affair while her friend was in Tunisia on business. I suppose a relationship that started in such dramatic circumstances could only lead to heartbreak. Initally, my idealism fuzzed my usually pragmatic approach to these kind of things and before I knew it I was off to Paris to meet her parents and arranging for us to take an apartment together in Dublin. She would find some work, and we could spend our off days curled on the red couch watching bad movies and smoking cigarettes on the little balcony while the endless rain beat rhythmic patterns on the sliding glass door.
These things still happen, but now we're suspicious and easily offended. Little annoyances become arguments and lead to threats of leaving and accussations of infidelity. My time is running out with her and there's nothing I would rather do than try to make her happy every day of the rest of my life. I just know she feels the same. I just know she'll come around. All I can do for now is wait.

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