LIKE THE BRITISH WEATHER
Why can't Bodie believe that Doyle loves him?
An established relationship story.
Written: August 2005. Word count: 500.
"You can't feel what I feel, you change too often."
- The Picture of Dorian Gray, Oscar Wilde.
Last night you told me that you loved me.
But I don't believe you.
I want to.
But I don't.
I'm not calling you a liar. I'd never do that. We don't lie to one another; not real lies that is. We're one another's truth in an otherwise untruthful world. We trust one another. We believe in one another.
So maybe I should believe you.
But I don't.
I believe that when you said the words, you thought you meant them. Maybe that even for the instant it took you to say ‘I love you, Bodie', you did mean them. I think you want to mean them.
But you can't mean them. You can't feel what I feel. You can't love like I love. You can't be content like I am.
Because like the British weather, you change too often.
One minute you're sad. The next you're happy.
One minute you're arguing with someone. The next you're buying them a drink.
One minute you hate the job. The next you're forecasting what cars Cowley'll buy next year.
One minute you say you'll never kill again. The next you're standing over the man you shot.
One minute you're in love. The next you can't remember her name.
One minute you're bored. The next you're ultra-interested.
One minute you're tired. The next you're hyper.
One minute you're shouting. The next you're quiet.
One minute you're crying. The next you're laughing.
One minute you're secure. The next you're apprehensive.
One minute you're raked with guilt. The next you've shrugged it off.
One minute you're like a kid. The next you're a responsible adult.
You can be all these things and more in a single day.
One minute I believe I know you. The next I'm sure I never shall.
One minute I'm your lover. The next I'm just your best friend.
As I said you're just like the British weather. And like that very thing, I've learnt to live with you. I've discovered how to, if not predict your moods, then at least adapt to them. To accept them. To ride the storms and revel in the warmth.
I've been to many other countries, lived with less fluctuating systems. Known that what I get when I wake up, will be there for the day. But that's just boring. Like a chocoholic who works in a chocolate factory where he can eat all he wants to, it gets old after a time. Predictability has its place; but I don't want to live there.
So I'll just continue living with my own personal walking, talking, changeable system. I'll keep on watching your back, just as you'll keep on watching mine.
I'll be best friend. Partner. Mate. Confident.
I'll hold you when you cry. Laugh with you when you're happy. Drink with you. Rant with you. Be there for you.
And who knows, maybe, just maybe, the next time you say the words, maybe, just maybe I'll even allow myself to believe you.
Feedback is always appreciated
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