Friends

Ohmyfuck, why do you always appear when someone else has stolen your shoes? You swoop in and try and fill in the gap that you, yourself created, and ask me why we are separated not by distance but whatever it is that isnt anymore. I love you, and I will always fucking love you because you are my best friend and you are you. But my heart is not in your hand, its not across the oceans and its not six hours behind me and 10 000 miles away anymore. It belongs to someone that you call a stranger because he is. so now we converse, on what I like to think is our current version of a regular basis and I am okay with that and I hope you will be alright. I hope you'll get use to this as I am trying to too. I hope that this will work because I dont know what else to do if it doesnt.

I spent my sunday night at the playground with cameras, cigarettes and the boy I call Bobby. I remember I grew up on playgrounds, that was our mission. Out of the three of us. We spent hours on our bikes or scooters crusing the entire neighbourhood. The playground of choice depended on our mood and I dont know. Everything was free. I miss the three of us, I miss all of us. Today, Lionel left for the army again, Fabi called for the first time in two weeks and I didnt have such a bad end to my sunday afterall thanks to the boyfriend. I dont know.

It used to be grand, now its glazed eyes.