The flat on the roundabout

Rachel Ashe

Theres tears collecting in my ears. I smile through my moment of despair and turn to you in bed and say "I have puddles in my ears; there are tears in my ears". You laugh in a sad way and look and at me adoringly. "You should write a poem babe".

"Im going to - there are tears in my ears will be the first line, perhaps it can be added to the poem- this lift stinks like p***"

You laugh again and squeeze my hand and pull me in close. Your eyes have gone all bleary again and the puddles in my ears feel as if they are over flowing.

"Were not very good at saying goodbye are we? We always end up having too much fun. Perhaps this is why we haven't actually managed the leaving each other bit yet. Perhaps 6th time lucky aye?"

You smile and squeeze my hand again in agreement.

Im thinking how strange to feel so sad yet also kind of be enjoying the closeness of a goodbye. All the best things are said at the end.

I look up and realise that the day is almost over; orange glow comes through the window and kisses the wall behind your head. I turn to the light and screw up my eyes and shiny stars and sparks dance through my eyelashes.

The room smells warm. Your breath smells like whisky and sleep; I sniff the skin on the inside of my arm - radox and nivea. i think about how earlier you breathed me in while you had yours eyes closed and sighed happily.

"I love your smell. You always smell clean"

You're dozing off now your eyes are puffy and red; I know my eyes are swollen too. I stare intently at your face, trying to memorise every detail, every tiny hair and every tiny freckle.

I can't quite believe it's been over two years since I put that scrap of paper under your door declaring my love to you. How embarrassing of me. You always say that I work in fast forward whereas you're usually stuck on pause.

I pinch your nose between my thumb and forefinger and you wake with a start.

I can tell I look determined because you make an effort to wake up and pay attention.

I know this face so well. It knows me too.

Theres a film playing in my head to an old song. Our happy faces dancing across my mind. At least a hundred memories of you, but the one that sticks is you grabbing my foot unexpectedly and holding it while we watched a film two years ago. It felt so sweet. So precious a memory. I banked it right there and then- a moment for later. I suddenly wonder what the film was.

I take a breath and cross my fingers on the hand which isn't in your grasp and pluck up courage to ask the question one last time.

"Are you sure? Youre sure you don't love me. That you never did, you just see me as a friend?"

You look sad and nod your head.

I release my hand from yours and push your body away from my own and roll to the other side of the bed and let the space between us grow.