Tuesday, January 01, 2008


Tonight, the man saw someone he desperately wanted to see, but desperately didn't want to see. A young lady who has caused him immense pain and yet so much greater joy and pleasure.

He wishes he knew how he felt, or that is how he would like to think. Actually, he knows precisely how he feels: he feels shame and desire, jealousy and justification but, above all, love.

Such wonderful torture, such painful pleasure to drink with you. Oh, if only I had been someone different, the person I am now, when I knew you first.

Oh, and I understand how you felt, that small hollowing out of your chest; that little destruction of your hope, I understand what you did there: did you not see how I welcomed you, against all those odds?

And all of those things that we did, all of those people that I was attached to since ended up bearing your face; how can I be with anyone bearing your face when it is only you that has made me laugh? I understand that only you met them, and only now can I understand what you felt; how can I apologise now, now I that I understand too late?

We had choice, you and I; and we exercised it to within the limit that we had. Two each and then death, the death of what we had. Those times came and they went and we had the cerebral agreement; was it the same on your side, did you want those choices only? Would you have welcomed an infinite chance, or just a few more goes?

Perhaps whilst you needed me; and I was happy to make you happy. Perhaps to be so, maybe others were needed. That small little chance to see whether, in this big city, we could be one again.

And I? I just want you to be happy and I am so glad that you are. I just hoped that I would be the one to make you so. And maybe I shall be yet.

Hope springs eternal, because I love you—and never so much as when you tell me to "shut up, you silly old man." Such small things, and yet those things mean everything. I love you, and I don't know how to let that go. There's no life, only living.

UPDATE: you see? Alcohol is not a good drug.

DISMISSAL: every now and again, your humble Devil tries his hand at something a little less trivial than the corruption of our politicians. The above may or may not relate to actual events and, in any case, is written for fun.


Sean Jeating said...

Written (just) for fun? I do not hope so, DK. And: Don't delete this post.
The Peace of the Night. :)

Anonymous said...

And you're the person I sold my soul to? There goes my bid for satanist of the month.

Seriously DK, always knew you were an old softy really. All libertarians have hearts. It's those socialist fuckers who want to enslave everyone.

Anonymous said...

Yes, alchohol can be a wonderful thing. Hope you get there.

I'm in a similar position, except I'm winning, apart from the logistical problem of the object being 6,000 miles away. But we're working something out: roll on 16 March!

Good luck!

Stephen Britt said...

Oi DK,

This is not fiction - written with far too much feeling!

What next? A list of films that make you cry?


Anonymous said...

*raises a glass*

but would you be the person you are now without her?

Trixy said...

If you don't bloody tell her soon then I will.

Pogo said...

Murder isn't it, even though I'm a lot older than you DK... I've just had a "second try" relationship go bad again.

The sky looks a lot greyer.

anthonynorth said...

Ah, the beauty of true love! But do you know where it can lead?
I celebrate my 31st wedding anniversary this year.

Bill Haydon said...

ah, DK...alcohol is the cause of and solution to all of life's problems, or so my Homer Simpson pint glass says.

Anonymous said...

Marry her you stupid fuck

IanPJ said...

In this case DK I do think the alcohol is good.

It has allowed you to break down your own barriers and speak genuinely from the heart.

More power to you, may she read your post and melt.

Devil's Kitchen said...

Yes, being the buttoned up Englishman I am, I find that alcohol allows me to express things that I would normally find rather difficult.

Anyway, now that I'm sober I apologise for the melodrama (and some of it is deliberately so); I would have removed this post (as I usually do with such ramblings) except that Sean leapt in and insisted that I keep it up. So I guess I have to...


Anonymous said...

Now,look,DK, I'm going to talk to you like a Dutch uncle.

Kijk hier! Een deel van de menselijke voorwaarde is dat de liefde kwetst.

Oh, wait a minute!

Anyway, this is why we have all these love songs of pain and longing and breaking up and "why doesn't she call?" and can't live with him, can't live without him. Being in love is a universally painful condition until you've worked through it all.

Everybody sings the blues sometimes. It's like an unchained melody.

Is that enough clichés? The human condition of love has inspired so many clichés because we can all relate.

If you love her, commit to her.

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