Eyes wide shut

You were going to leave last night, weren't you?

Like a million other nights before that, like a million other moments when you thought you could just look away, take a deep breath and run.
So why didn't you?
Was it that smooth single malt matured for eighteen years, that we'd been saving for a special night or my perfectly prepared putanesca, or just the cosy couch which so loves to be molested by you?

It wasn't the music I know. You never thought Dylan was a singer anyway, although he did write some decent poetry.
And it wasn't the view - you hate darkness and half a moon and a slumbering world.

I had packed your things you know,listed everything precisely, you needn't have worried about leaving anything behind- nothing important,that is.
I had promised to ship you the Kandinsky prints and all your favourite bric a brac later.
Didn't you believe me?

Didn't you believe me when I said I'd be OK?
That its the only way to do it, with a smile and a polite hug?
What would have been the point of smashing all that expensive crystal and the precious curios collected from far flung bits of the world, traversed hand in hand?

Or flinging poisoned barbs at each other and revelling in the hurting game, just because you know where it hurts the most- or did we really know, after all these years?

I believed you when you said we'd be friends. So much simpler. Like half a litre of water in that single malt. Safe too. Almost exemplary.

Yes we were smart. Spared ourselves the protracted hangover, the needless trauma, the necessary melodrama, even the clean-up job after the chaos and cuts.
Watched our favourite movie, gorged on gooey chocolate mousse with extra whipped cream, honey and nuts and sipped the cognac composedly.

Numbed steady eyes. No conflict. No hysteria.

Everything is exactly as it should be. The walls are the same colour. The cat smells the same. Even the window opens out the same way and the toaster- you know it won't work till you slap it around a bit.

Only the moon outside has disappeared. You didn't notice did you?
Can I get you those soft bedroom slippers and some camomile tea? Its late you know.
I know you said you'll leave at daybreak, should I book a cab perhaps?
Or wouldn't you rather get a good nights sleep and leave after your usual dose of strong java, and maybe that Monday morning dimsum breakfast, like always? Oh, and I did remember to buy that seafood flavoured soy sauce you can't do without.

Hey, can't you sleep on your side of the bed and leave me more than just a few inches of the duvet? That means I've got to be all over you to get warm and we're not supposed to do that anymore- take each other for granted.
Will have to tug hard at the duvet or go looking for that ancient hot water bottle. Why is it freezing in here, now?

How about if I sit up and watch a movie all night while you dream of a hassle free tomorrow, and we can both be ourselves in the morning and pretend its just another day and we're going to work and we'll be back that evening, cursing the rest of the world and looking forward to-

coming home?

Took the Kandinskys off the walls, moved the couch, dumped the toaster, drained the cognac and gave the cat away.

Moon's back in full form.
Can't seem to open that window though. It used to be so easy! Push it, kick it, beat it. No luck.

Guess, some things will change.

You've just got to take the good with the bad thats all.

Wish I knew which was which though.