Anticipation floods the everlasting darkness of my eyes. The line drapes itself across the cobbly London street. Fans and stans alike buzz, screeching the discordant melodies of the star’s greatest hits. Their bright smiles make the grey sky shine because they look so much like mine.
My friend isn’t a stan like me but ‘I can appreciate the music’ he nods casually as we make conversation with one of the highest-ranking members of the standom. She quotes the superstar’s Instagram lives, gliding like poetry in motion, stroking her merchandise.
‘I think I’ve met a bigger fan than you.’ my close friend chuckles.
I toss a flimsy laugh in return, my bright smile dimmed by the bittersweet reality of the moving line. As the burly and stoic men in fluorescent vests guide us into the concert hall, I realise in two hours this will be all over. As the confetti rains down and she struts off the stage. As the dancers freestyle to the instrumental and we depart. As we amble back to our dingy hostel with McDonald’s dangling between us. As we wake up, brush our teeth and rush to the tube. I realise this is an end.
I’m back at university and you’re starting. Even when you’re home, my home is far away from you. I am not friends with any of your friends. Not anymore. They slipped away, just like how you almost escaped the warmth of my love in the chaos of yesterday’s rave.
When my train came, I gave you a quick hug and went away.
I’m sorry.
You’re the person I want to hold when I’m in pieces.
In your burning gaze, I feel exposed and finally seen.
If today was yesterday, I would hold you to my chest for forever and day. The crowd would applaud but we do not hear them. Thank you for being my close friend. I wish I could be your best friend, but I respect that the long distance is hard. Thank you for your honesty. Thank you for realising pleasing me should always come second to taking care of yourself and nurturing your boundaries.
If today was yesterday, I would confess that all our conversations, all your sweet messages... they were not long enough.
Your fingers glide across the grand piano as I harmonize with the recording. Together we create new colours.
When yesterday was today, I tried to paint you.
If today was yesterday, the colours would be pure enough.
If today was yesterday, I would declare that your love is one that confounds comprehension.
We’ve been on this rollercoaster for so long.
When you want to get off, please let me know.
I don’t want to let you go.
I promise I’ll let you go.
19. Second year Creative Writing and English Lit. Find inspiration in music and conversation.
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