Folkestone, Summer 2020

“I wish we could just have a date”

Your words fly slowly towards my face, like a fist in slow motion from a movie fight scene. I close my eyes, stuck shut with gluey tears and a clenched jaw. I feel my teeth bite down hard on themselves and think about all the new chips and dents I’ve developed during lockdown whilst doing fine.
Those tiny words have flicked a switch in the archive of my mind. It’s dark in here and I can’t find my way around. It’s strange how trauma works like that, I know it’s mine but yet I can’t locate it. “I wish we could just have a date” must be a reference or a footnote to something past, but I can’t tell you what it is because I can’t find it. If I was a computer I’d have a bug or a system error or an anti-virus firewall to protect my heart.
I don’t know if you’re a virus or an upgrade, maybe the operating system of my brain is too old to update. I guess capitalism built me to fail.

Leave a Reply