Saving The World
Entry by: jaguar
17th December 2015
I used to comfort myself that you’d never really hit rock bottom. Things might have been bad but you’d never stooped that low. Somewhere, inside both of us, was the last wisp of love. You hadn’t, yet, blown it out completely.
Even after it ended I saw our relationship as the castle of my achievements. I never expected to attract someone as fantastic as you. You might have been on the slide but you were still something else. The sort of man people sought out at parties, you were on everyone’s invite list.
Yet it was never a castle, it didn’t tower up in the air dominating the lesser buildings. We were always a ruin, without foundations, our walls never fully built, no drawbridge to protect against your follies. I’m not sure how I managed to miss such obvious facts. How the invitations dropped away like butterflies in winter. How you were still gesticulating wildly in the corner of parties but you were quite alone. How there weren’t actually any parties anymore – just you drinking and dancing for all the missing people.
I wish I’d never opened your email. I might be deluded but I’d already taken all I could take from you – the abandonment, the debt, the realisations growing like mould. I’m not strong enough to deal with this new assault even though it’s been ten years since I last saw you. Long enough to believe you were going to leave me in peace under the ruins of our old life, those fallen ramparts. You were going to let me try and heal.
‘Dear Lost Love,
Do you remember how we were always saving the world? Sigh.
Do you think we still could? I know you’ll find this hard to believe but I think of you every single day. I wonder what would have been if I’d not come to you so damaged. Last month I finally signed myself into rehab and I did it for you.
The trouble is I didn’t tell the social and now I find myself sober but deeply in debt. I think, this time, I might be able to kick the habit but it will be impossible if I’m homeless. So I thought do I know someone who’s so kind they might forgive my past behaviour and help me out again? Of course, the first person I thought of was you.
So what's the deal? £2,000. That’s all I need and then – who knows? You won’t be saving the world the way we dreamed but you will save this little part of it. You could redeem me. I might be able to make something of myself at long last. I might become the man you thought I was. I might do you proud.
I never stopped loving you – that’s why I stayed away until I could offer you something
Patrick’
My heart slowed as if it was reaching back for him. Even with all the bitter lessons I’d learnt I still believed him, at first. I believed him while I wondered why he hadn’t used my name. I believed right up until I saw the long circulation list and all those other names formed themselves into links in a chain that tightened around my neck and stopped me breathing. The names of every single one of Patrick’s ex-girlfriends, in exact date order like an emotional CV, a lost love cemetery.
Even after it ended I saw our relationship as the castle of my achievements. I never expected to attract someone as fantastic as you. You might have been on the slide but you were still something else. The sort of man people sought out at parties, you were on everyone’s invite list.
Yet it was never a castle, it didn’t tower up in the air dominating the lesser buildings. We were always a ruin, without foundations, our walls never fully built, no drawbridge to protect against your follies. I’m not sure how I managed to miss such obvious facts. How the invitations dropped away like butterflies in winter. How you were still gesticulating wildly in the corner of parties but you were quite alone. How there weren’t actually any parties anymore – just you drinking and dancing for all the missing people.
I wish I’d never opened your email. I might be deluded but I’d already taken all I could take from you – the abandonment, the debt, the realisations growing like mould. I’m not strong enough to deal with this new assault even though it’s been ten years since I last saw you. Long enough to believe you were going to leave me in peace under the ruins of our old life, those fallen ramparts. You were going to let me try and heal.
‘Dear Lost Love,
Do you remember how we were always saving the world? Sigh.
Do you think we still could? I know you’ll find this hard to believe but I think of you every single day. I wonder what would have been if I’d not come to you so damaged. Last month I finally signed myself into rehab and I did it for you.
The trouble is I didn’t tell the social and now I find myself sober but deeply in debt. I think, this time, I might be able to kick the habit but it will be impossible if I’m homeless. So I thought do I know someone who’s so kind they might forgive my past behaviour and help me out again? Of course, the first person I thought of was you.
So what's the deal? £2,000. That’s all I need and then – who knows? You won’t be saving the world the way we dreamed but you will save this little part of it. You could redeem me. I might be able to make something of myself at long last. I might become the man you thought I was. I might do you proud.
I never stopped loving you – that’s why I stayed away until I could offer you something
Patrick’
My heart slowed as if it was reaching back for him. Even with all the bitter lessons I’d learnt I still believed him, at first. I believed him while I wondered why he hadn’t used my name. I believed right up until I saw the long circulation list and all those other names formed themselves into links in a chain that tightened around my neck and stopped me breathing. The names of every single one of Patrick’s ex-girlfriends, in exact date order like an emotional CV, a lost love cemetery.
Follow us on Twitter
Follow us on Instagram