From all to nothing
A
It's getting dark. I had forgot how long it took for that to happen here in the North, just like I had forgot how swiftly time moves in your company. It's a weird feeling, as if time was passing both quickly and slowly, at the same time. On the other hand, maybe I can blame the wine. I'm not really used to drinking any more, and the first bottle is already emptied, with a second one started. I can't say I feel drunk, but after some bemused consideration I decide it's more likely I'm drunk than that time itself has hiccups.
My train of thought is derailed by you saying something.
"Huh?"
"I asked if I can take one of your cigarettes."
"Oh, sure," I say with a nod to the pack lying beside me on the balcony floor. "Help yourself."
You stretch your leg out and reel the pack in with your toes. I notice you have the tip of your tongue in the corner of your mouth, and smile.
"Thanks." You put a cigarette between your lips and light it, tip your head backwards and blow the smoke out and up. "What were you thinking then, so far away?"
"Just wondering whether I was drunk."
"Of course you're drunk, otherwise there's something wrong with the wine. You might as well make the most of it, now that you're allowed to get drunk. When was the last time?"
"Too long. Years. Can you pass me the cigarettes?"
"Why? You couldn't be bothered to pass them to me."
So you're in a bantering mood? Well, that's quite welcome. I think I need to let go of the sombre facade, and bickering with you, especially when you're in that mood, is a rare pleasure. I get a sudden feeling of deja vu, and remember us sitting like this, drinking, smoking and joking, many years ago. A summer night on a balcony, the night we found out we were friends. And even if the friendship has remained strong all these years, it has become something more. To me, at least. I smile.
"Yeah, but that's because it's my cigarettes, and as you're getting them for free you could make a bit of an effort in return."
"Hey, I'm doing you a favour here. You said yourself you needed some exercise."
"Should I need exercise?" I ask. "When did I say something that stupid?"
"A little while ago, when we were talking about sex, you said that you ought to have sex more often since you needed the exercise."
Ah, right. I did say that. Not remarkable; we often talk about sex. But when I made that comment, I didn't think about having sex in general, but with you, specifically. And as always, you ignored that, just like I know you'll ignore this: "What, here on the balcony?" I take a sip of wine and make a sweeping gesture with the glass.
You snort and roll your eyes. "And who would you have sex with here, do you think?"
"Well," I say and look at your breasts, "I guess I'll have to find someone nearby who looks like a woman. I mean, surely the sex ought to be enough exercise? I shouldn't have to run around and find someone to exercise with."
My reply is automatic. Maybe, I think, you're getting tired of it. You know you attract me. I told you, years ago. And after the initial surprise you've always ignored it. I don't know any more if I want to take you to bed. You once said, I remember, that I didn't want to do, but to have done. Head of the nail.
You snort again. "I shouldn't think so," you say as you toss me the cigarettes.
"Aw, come on! You said you wanted to do me a favour and exercise me." I extract a cigarette and light it. I recall a promise you gave me, without thinking, years ago, a promise I sometimes I sometimes bring up and wave about. "Anyway, you promised I'd get to see you naked sometime, and that ought to be enough to speed up my heart quite a lot."
Copyright Örjan Westin 2001, 2005