I Wrote This For You

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I Wrote This For You Page 4

by pleasefindthis


  Perhaps that somewhere is here.

  Perhaps that someone, is you.

  THE SAVIOUR GOT LOST IN THE MIRROR

  If the only reason you help is so that you can tell people that you help, I don’t need your help.

  THE RAIN WAS ONCE A CLOUD

  Know someone as much as you can. Hold onto the moments that define them. Then when their body leaves, they won’t.

  THE BLOOD RED LIE

  The best time to reflect is when you like the person looking back.

  THE MOMENT MY SKIN BRUSHED AGAINST YOURS

  But really, all we want, and I speak for the entire human race here, is contact. Someone to let us know that we aren’t alone. That the world isn’t a dream and you and I really are happening at the same time, even if it’s not in the same place. That this is real. You’re really there. I’m really here. We’re real.

  This is real.

  THE PACKAGING OF PEOPLE

  “But this is just another box.”

  “No it’s not, it’s the box we put you in if you say ‘Don’t put me in a box.’”

  THE DEFENDERS OF THE FORGOTTEN

  You are nobody’s hero. And nobody needs you. Desperately.

  THE PRESSURE TO THE WOUNDED

  You know I just wouldn’t be human if I didn’t try and hold your hand as it disintegrated from the light of a thousand suns somewhere above Hiroshima. Or kiss the tears from your cheeks in Iraq, like the sweat from your brow in Zimbabwe. It isn’t in me not to try and lift the rubble crushing you in Gaza or hide you in Rwanda. Like a last hug in a building in New York or the water we shared in Afghanistan. More than the blood we mixed in Flanders or the sandy beach we trod in Normandy. Longer than the fires burned in Dresden or Soweto. I won’t let go of your hand.

  THE PLACE I’M IN

  You cannot kill me here. Bring your soldiers, your death, your disease, your collapsed economy because it doesn’t matter, I have nothing left to lose and you cannot kill me here. Bring the tears of orphans and the wails of a mother’s loss, bring your God damn air force and Jesus on a cross, bring your hate and bitterness and long working hours, bring your empty wallets and love long since gone but you cannot kill me here. Bring your sneers, your snide remarks and friendships never felt, your letters never sent, your kisses never kissed, cigarettes smoked to the bone and cancer killing fears but you cannot kill me here. For I may fall and I may fail but I will stand again each time and you will find no satisfaction. Because you cannot kill me here.

  THE GROUND WILL GIVE WAY

  The bad news is, your choices and intentions, some people and places, those nights spent awake and all you’ve done, can lead you to the bottom of the pit.

  The good news is, this wouldn’t be the first time someone’s crawled, tooth and nail, out of hell.

  THE WORLD NEEDS MORE LIGHTHOUSES

  You can join the millions talking in the dark. Or you can stand up and scream light, out into the night.

  THE GREAT BURNING OF SUPPER

  It sounds pretty but I disagree. I believe there are moments in your life when you have to dance like everyone is watching.

  THE BUBBLES ARE YOUR FRIENDS

  And though the waves might bring you down and though the currents might pull you under, the sky is always still right above you. And your friends will show you the way.

  THE PERFECT APATHY

  You remember and dwell on all the things you’ve lost and ignore all the things you haven’t. Because your scars are like stars. Yet the night stays perfectly black.

  THE FINITE CURVE

  You will only be hurt a finite number of times during your life.

  You have an infinite number of ways to deal with it.

  THE SHOP THAT LETS YOU RENT HAPPINESS

  “This is the one.” The universe assures me from behind the counter.

  “But I thought you said the last one was the one.” I reply.

  “No.” Says the universe. “I sold you that one so you would know that this, this is the one.”

  “Is there another one?” I ask the universe.

  “I can’t tell you.” They reply. “It’d ruin the surprise.”

  THE DAY YOU READ THIS

  On this day, you read something that moved you and made you realise there were no more fears to fear. No tears to cry. No head to hang in shame. That every time you thought you’d offended someone, it was all just in your head and really, they love you with all their heart and nothing will ever change that. That everyone and everything lives on inside you. That that doesn’t make any of it any less real.

  That soft touches will change you and stay with you longer than hard ones.

  That being alone means you’re free. That old lovers miss you and new lovers want you and the one you’re with is the one you’re meant to be with. That the tingles running down your arms are angel feathers and they whisper in your ear, constantly, if you choose to hear them. That everything you want to happen, will happen, if you decide you want it enough. That every time you think a sad thought, you can think a happy one instead.

  That you control that completely.

  That the people who make you laugh are more beautiful than beautiful people. That you laugh more than you cry. That crying is good for you. That the people you hate wish you would stop and you do too.

  That your friends are reflections of the best parts of you. That you are more than the sum total of the things you know and how you react to them. That dancing is sometimes more important than listening to the music.

  That the most embarrassing, awkward moments of your life are only remembered by you and no one else. That no one judges you when you walk into a room and all they really want to know, is if you’re judging them. That what you make and what you do with your time is more important than you’ll ever fathom and should be treated as such. That the difference between a job and art is passion. That neither defines who you are. That talking to strangers is how you make friends.

  That bad days end but a smile can go around the world. That life contradicts itself, constantly. That that’s why it’s worth living.

  That the difference between pain and love is time. That love is only as real as you want it to be. That if you feel good, you look good but it doesn’t always work the other way around.

  That the sun will rise each day and it’s up to you each day if you match it. That nothing matters up until this point. That what you decide now, in this moment, will change the future. Forever. That rain is beautiful.

  And so are you.

  THE ARRIVALS LOUNGE

  A plane landed and a man in a scruffy coat leaned forward and wondered if this was the one. People got off and walked into the large, gleaming white terminal, where they were either met by others (some in tears but everyone smiling) or if no one was there to greet them, they looked around, shrugged, sat down in one of the long rows of aluminum chairs and either listened to music or read a book or just stared off into the distance in the kind of shell shock that normally comes from long distance travel. Several made phone calls. One, for whatever strange reason, tried to go back through the gate, to get back on the plane. Security, gently, held him at bay.

  The old man had seen it all before but he didn’t mind waiting. He’d gotten quite good at it. There were exactly 128 chairs in terminal D. The roof had exactly 864 crisscrossing tiles. The planes landed every 11 hours, 59 minutes and 59 seconds. He knew. He’d had enough time to count. He read the paper. It was always the same paper, but each day, there was always a different story about someone he knew on the front page.

  Exactly 11 hours, 59 minutes and 59 seconds later, he was too absorbed in the paper and the lullaby of the announcer coming over the terminal speakers to notice the small, diminutive female form standing next to him.

  “Hello.” She said.

  He looked up from his paper.

  “I think I know you.”

  “Yes, I think you do,” he replied.

  “You once swapped your last packet o
f cigarettes for a bicycle, in the middle of the war, then rode it for five hours to see me.”

  “I think that was me. I can’t remember. I think we ran a grocery store together. I remember cobblestone streets and a newsagent next door. The children would buy comic books. There was a harbour.”

  “I think that happened.”

  There was a silence.

  “How was your flight?” he finally asked.

  “Good. There was some turbulence towards the end but other than that it was fine.”

  She rubbed her arms.

  “Did you get everything done that you needed to do?”

  “Quite a bit. Most of it I think.”

  “Well, that’s all you can really ask for.”

  “I suppose so. The tea was nice.”

  “That’s good then,” he said with a smile.

  “Are we supposed to get a taxi now?”

  “No, not yet I don’t think.”

  “Then what do we do?”

  He cleared some space next to him on the aluminum chair then took his coat off and scrunched it up to make a pillow.

  “I think we’re meeting someone.”

  “Oh. Will we have to wait long?”

  “No. Not in the greater scheme of things. They serve tea, just ask for one when the woman comes round with the tray.”

  “Is it good?”

  “The best you’ve ever tasted.”

  By the time the next plane landed, she’d fallen asleep on his shoulder.

  THE LAST THING YOU SAID

  As you lay dying, we asked if there was anything else you wanted us to include in the book before we sent it back to you.

  “Love, at every opportunity you are given to love. Be less afraid. Embrace each day (none are promised). Cry when you need to, it’ll make you feel better. You were put on this planet to feel every feeling you could, do that. Everything works out in the end.

  I promise.”

  Table of Contents

  SUN,

  The Layers Unseen

  The First Sign Is Taking Strange Pictures

  The Bibliography Of Strings

  The Corners Of Your Mouth

  The Shape Of It

  The Point Of Contact

  The Time It Takes To Fall

  The Seat Next To You

  The Shipwreck In My Head

  The Pattern Is A System Is A Maze

  The Missed Appointment

  The New Colour

  The Moths Don’t Die For Nothing

  The Clearly Labeled

  The Drive Before Dawn

  The Wet Hair And Eyes

  The Shape Falls At Your Feet

  The Excuse For Your Company

  The Lantern In The Lifeboat

  The Paint Hides The Brick

  The Way Glass Breaks

  The Truth Is Born In Strange Places

  The Important Things Humans Do

  MOON,

  The Children Of Time

  The Ghost Train

  The Day Tomorrow Came

  The Train Of Lies

  The Fragile Arc

  The Corner Of Me And You

  The Books Never Written

  The To Not Do List

  The Rules Of Engagement

  The Speed Of Feeling

  The Heart Beats Per Minute

  The Needle And Ink

  The Heart Rides On

  The Lovers Bleed Into Each Other

  The Things That Are Left

  The Circus Is Cheaper When It Rains

  The Song Across Wires

  The Fury Of Water

  The Place Where Nothing Hurts

  The Fire At Sea

  The Beautiful Mess We Could Be

  The Title Screen

  The Bleach

  The Stranger In Waiting

  The Heart We Share

  The Road Map Back

  The Shape Of Air

  The Lipstick On The Window

  The Absence Of Oxygen

  The Scars You Love

  The Zodiac Of One

  The Static On The Line

  The Tender Tinder Box

  The Slight Pinch

  The Wishing Well In The Sky (Letters To Father Time)

  The Humans Aren’t Recyclable

  The Place Where I Wait

  The Ebb And Flow

  The Point Past Peak Feelings

  The Picture We Make

  The Diaries Of Foreign Lovers

  The Lack Of Postcards

  The Translation Service

  The First Time We Met

  The AWOL Hearts

  The Forgotten Feeling

  The First Crack Is The Last

  STARS,

  The Place Where You Get Off

  The Bargain

  The Skeletons In The Sea

  The Forgotten Star

  The Seraphim And The Pirate

  The One I Miss

  The Stranger In You

  The Leftovers

  The End Of That

  The Bridge From Solitude

  The Sheer Arrogance Of Loneliness

  The Heart Is Red

  The Bastards Tied Me Down

  The Shade

  The Truth Is Ugly

  The Skin I’m In

  The Floor Takes So Long To Hit

  The Cupboard Is Empty

  The Tiny Iceberg

  The B-Train

  The Rose Is Not Always A Rose

  The Mechanics Of Puppetry

  The Bystander Picks Something Up

  The Leave Behind

  The Simple Shattering Of Water

  The Glass Tower

  The Sea Reclaims The Land

  The World Is Too Big

  The Green Curtain

  The Princess Is In Another Castle

  The Monsters I Miss

  The Error Of Parallax

  The History Of Arson

  The Things Sold By The Sea Shore

  The Tales From Bar

  The Last Days

  The Slipstream We’re Caught In

  The Death Of Love

  The Missing Exclamation Marks

  The Lying Tree

  The Day After The Crash

  The Future Is The Past Waiting To Happen

  The Next Stop

  The Sun Or The Moon

  The City Rises And Falls

  The Blue Lines

  The Water Is On Fire

  The Seconds Before Launch

  The Grim Alternatives

  The Promise Sleep Made Me

  The Theory Is Still Just A Theory

  The Tick-Tock In Your Chest

  The Fragments Belong Together

  The Water Flows Uphill

  The Fading Glow

  The Twins

  The Empty Classroom

  The World Is Better Backwards

  RAIN.

  The Angel Of Almost

  The Best Way To Run Into Traffic

  The Hope Of Symmetry

  The Catwalk In The Sky

  The Medicine Is The Sickness

  The Fragments Of Hope

  The Reason The Willow Weeps

  The Lack Of Apologies

  The Truth Behind Glass Mountains

  The Flowers Of 3753 Cruithne

  The Need For Honesty After Midnight

  The Place Sentences Go To Die

  The People We Could Be

  The Inscription

  The Wood In Trees

  The Red Sky At Night

  The Amount Of People Who Like This

  The Nod And The Wink

 

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