“It hurt a lot.”
J—— says as I sit across of him at coffee. He stares at me. No, maybe not at me, but at some far away thing, beyond me, I just happen to be in his eye-line.
“What was it like?” I ask, rather stupidly.
“Unpleasant.” he replies obviously, and yet pauses for a moment, as if to say more.
But doesn’t.
If I was to hazard a guess at what the pause was for, I’d say it was because as unpleasant as it was, as challenging to his peace it was, it felt good, really good, to be back there again.
“It was the laughing that got to me.” He has finally turned his gaze away from me to watch a kid walk by with an ice cream.
It’s sunny, but it’s always sunny. We are sat outside a coffee shop on Franklin Blvd in LA, I used to live right by here, this used to be my coffee shop actually. I used to love their lattes, but its a different coffee shop now.
Lots has changed, some things not for the better.
Maybe it’s not fair to judge change as it’s happening. Maybe it’s only hindsight that offers the proper context. Even then, memory warps things, distends and distorts, blurring joy and pain. Now that I think about it, I’m not sure their lattes were anything special.
“I guess I just didn’t expect to hear us laughing. I always felt there was so much conflict all the time, you know?” He continues on. “and like, I am used to the aching pain, that has become sort of like a stone in my shoe that I’ve grown to walk with…”
“But when I heard the laughing… it was sharp man, I lost my breath for a second.”
He goes quiet. I know that kind of quiet, it’s a kind a quiet that comes from guilt and loss. The kind of quiet that worms its way into the back of your mind, and no matter how much noise you make to drown it out, it whispers, tongue wet with poison.
“what if?”
It’s weird when you are the author of your own loss. Where nothing has been taken from you so much as you have given it away. It’s weird when you put the stone in your own shoe willingly.
“Anyway” he says, “if your iCloud is full, just pay the $3.99 for more storage….
don’t go and try to make more space in your photos.”
-A
I understand that broken people don't connect with anyone so easily
When someone's heart is full of love, he does not accept anyone else
It's difficult for broken people to reconnect with friends, I've had a recent conversation with someone whose finding hard to move on. In Time helps heal the pain and we gain experience from the past. Everyone changes over time whether it's good or bad, but if you're a good friend, you'll stay and support them through those times, the best you can. Avan: you are a fab storyteller, beautiful as always x