Looking for Warmth in Unfamiliar Places.

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Sunday 7th of April 2019

A door appeared next to the lounge chairs to my right. A light brown wooden door with a small heart shaped lock on the right, below the handle. In the centre of the door, about eye level, are nine small panels, like a grid. They can be slid around the square they form, revealing symbols underneath.

I slide them around to see all the symbols, but what’s underneath is a distraction. It’s the subtle nicks in the wood on top that form a pattern, a puzzle to fit together.

The panels unlock a piece of paper that falls out. A letter addressed to me. It reads:

~ There’s so much to say and not an easy way to begin. So much pasted and so much going forward. So, I’ll just get to it.

There was so much that we both kept from each other, so much we kept to ourselves and hid away because that’s the way we thought we had to be. I see clearly now what I didn’t see then, we were children, not taught to know any better by our parents, who weren’t taught to know any better. We put too much pressure on ourselves to be who we thought we were, when we were just the abandoned children of abandoned children.

I want you to know that I don’t blame you for anything, and I’m hoping, with everything that I am, that you’re not blaming me. It’s so easy now to look back and see our mistakes, to see what we now think of as flaws, when before they were our strengths and stupidities.

We’re older now, and we know things now. We’ve taught ourselves and we’ve learned from our mistakes, our failures.

I’m not who I was and it’s because of you. I want you to know that. Because of you I’ve grown, I’ve learned, I’ve developed. In failing each other, we raised each other, at least, that’s how I feel.

You were what I needed when I needed you to be it, for that I’m always grateful. Thank you for being there for me and not being there for me, as silly as that sounds. The parting of us was essential, and I like to think it was for you as well. Don’t worry about me, I’m good and I hope you are too.

Be well, be happy, and remember we did what we were meant to do in each others lives, never doubt that. My love and gratitude… ~

When I finished reading the letter, a soft glow began emanating from under one of the couches. I reached under and pulled out a key, attached to a rope like chain.

The key fit perfectly in the lock and turned with ease. It opened with a slight push, stepping through, the door closed behind me.

I wish it was summer because when the sun goes down, when it shines at all, its the sort of cold that settles in around bones. There’s just no shaking it, no staying warm. I’ve been sleeping in my dressing gown, with an extra blanket and a new addition, a hot water bottle. But, I’ve still caught a cold, so, whatever. Was that post modern of me, dismissing my plight like that?

I’m not intentionally covering up my emotional state, I just don’t care. Getting upset or even fighting it doesn’t seem practical right now. And it’s not because ‘things could be worse’, or ‘there are people out there worse off than me’, it should be, but it isn’t. I just don’t care. This is my reality now, I’ve embraced it, and also, I’m not here most of the time anyway. I should name the world in my head. It should have a name, like New Cap City. Only the truly worthy will get that reference.

How about Emet? Yeah, Emet sounds interesting. I should put the kettle on and go to bed.

Hot water bottle’s in the bed, but I’m not. In the bathroom just now I could see my own breath. I’m pretty sure it’s colder in here than it is outside, but that’s not my point.

When I was in school, I used to see my own breath in the bathroom, it would get that cold. This no heating thing, it isn’t new. We got central heating for the first time when I was in my twenties. Before that we had one gas heater in the living room and nothing else. Before that, one of those gas tank heaters that we moved from room to room. Again, not the point. I’ve just gone back in time, back to the beginning of the end.

I had just started university when we got central heating. I was still in the process of pushing my friends away because I was jealous of their lives, and they were just in the process of letting me so they could get on with their lives. I was convinced they didn’t matter anyway, this was the step I needed before success. They were just getting married and having babies, I was going to have a career. It would be ironic if it wasn’t so depressing.

University was supposed to be the stepping point into greatness. But look at me, I’m exactly where I started. In a house with no heat, just like before. The same house in fact, I’ve never moved from this spot. The difference is now, I have no friends, I have a family who don’t know me or care about me and… there is not third thing.

I’m not feeling sorry for myself, these are just facts I’ve linked together, the brain trying to create order, synergy. I want it to mean something, so it does. Whatever.

‘The Murder of Miss O’ available from Amazon and stuff.