Lately, I try not to think too much. I prefer to focus on one minor task- like picking a fragile hole in the frayed lace curtains beside my bed. I concentrate so hard that the flurry of thoughts that usually centre around you, ebb away into a delicious nothingness.
Otherwise I think so hard about certain points in the past that it blocks out everything else. My mind dead bolts the door to new intruding, thoughts and shines a solitary light onto a particular memory.
I do not keep these tricks up my sleeves. I keep them in the warm palm of my hand. They are frequently needed. I think of you far too much.
Today I pluck a particular memory from the corner of my mind. I like to picture my mind as a field, full of flowers and smelling sweet. Daisies are my favourite, my field is full of them.
My mind is actually nothing like this. But I have become adept at fooling myself.
I got rid of my virginity as soon as I could. The sooner lost, the better I figured. His name was Jason Bridges and what happened between us was as passionate and fullfilling as a half empty cup of water. I don't regret it happening the way it did, I just wish I had a better excuse for it. No one in their right mind wants to throw their virginty away like a half-arsed maths exam that didn't deserve to be marked.
Norah said it changed me, but I think she wanted me to be different.
I think about this Jason Bridges memory. I roll it across my tongue daring myself to say it out loud just to hear something. Jason Bridges with his adolescent hair that smelt of motor oil and school hallways. Jason Bridges with his hands that felt so out of place against my back. Not like yours.
And the wall comes down. I thought about you. Fuck.
I bury this memory in the soft dirt of my mind field. Mine field it seems.
You are the mine- I am the unsuspecting civilian.
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