How To Build A Skeleton Heart: love letters
I guess this Justin guy is
attractive. I still wish it was for you that I went and got my arm pits waxed
just now. That it was you who would text
me when he was at the front door so I could sneak you in without Patrick
Does this mean I do love love you? If a hot
muso guy fails to whip me up into a stomache full of butterfly scattering
I got my arm pits waxed at a
beauty parlor on Harrow Road. The woman
who did them, made me wait for agesas she spoke on her mobile phone in a
language I couldn’t understand but liked listening to. I didn’t mind waiting. I
used my hoodie as a pillow and curled up in the arm chair to have a little
rest. At one point, the lady talking on
her mobile, came over to my seat and affectionately patted me on the head,
whilst smiling down on me. It was such a motherly gesture filled with affection
and warmth. It was a gesture I much appreciated. There was even a beautiful golden
coloured dog following an old man around as he distributed cups of tea to the
hair dressers and the receptionist. I
felt like I was in a foreign art house film.
Before going to the beauty
parlour I had had a trial day as a teacher at a special needs school in
Houslow. I do not have high hopes for it though. I tried my best but I have
been doing that for months now and it has not been enough.
When I got home I found that
Angelisse had cleaned our room from top to bottom. It smelled of lemons and the
floorboards were all shiny and clean. I don’t think JP and I ever cleaned it.
I got a cheap bottle of vodka
from the off l;icence down the road. If all else fails with Justin, I can just
get disgracefully drunk and cause a
cringe worthy scene that will make him hate me. I may feel different once I see
him in the flesh, in real life and within touching distance. I have not spoken
to him face to face in five years.
He said he would be at the
station near my place by seven. I wonder if I should take him straight to the
pub near the station and hang out there until Patrick is in bed. The dude is
usually in bed by 10:30pm. I feel like that is the safest way to avoid a run in
with pathetic Patrick.
By 5:30pm I have done my hair and
put on my fav pair of underwear, they have monkeys on them. My jeans are on and
my eye liner is applied. Oh and my invisible apathy blanket stitched and wrapped around me tight, bones
warmed by comforting indifference.
It seemed as if Justin was never
going to show up. He had not messaged by seven and nothing by 8:30pm. I was sitting on the floor of my bedroom with
my back against the warm radiator, staring at nothing. Angelisse walks into the
bedroom and says to me. ‘Your boy is down stairs talking with Patrick.’
‘Oh, shit!’ I say in shocked
I ran down the stairs and saw the
entrance to the house straight away. Justine was standing on the stoop and
Patrick was standing there like lord of the manor with the door held open and
letting freezing winter night air inside, as he interrogated Justin.
‘’Who are you?’ ‘Are you going
Why didn’t Justin message me like
I asked? I think. Justin is being evasive with non comital responses. ‘Are you
the land lord?’ Justin asks.
‘No, I just keep a lid on the madness.’ Patrick says. I want to kick Patrick hard in his shins. All he had to do was come get me and say my friend was here. He really is a total prick. Who knows how long this would have gone on had Angelisse not noticed on her way to the kitchen. Would Patrick have sent Justin away and never told me he came? When Justin looked up and saw me on the stairs he looked very relieved. ‘’Hello, want to come upstairs?’ I said, ignoring Patrick completely. The weirdo simply slinked away as soon as he heard my voice. I led him upstairs and into the bedroom where I shut the door behind us. He presented me with a fake flower that he took from the strange Just Married car that’s been parked on my street for weeks now. He had also bought along some vodka. We drank vodka while sitting on my bed and talking. It was good and now he is staying for a few days. Angelisse is cool with it and has been working a lot lately so hardly home. The only real problem is Patrick. If he finds out about Justin sleeping over he will demand money, like 40 pounds a night or something. So the plan is to elude Patrick for as long as we can. Justin has no money and you know how much I do love helping boys fulfil their potential, dreams and aspirations.
Last night Justin took me to see one of his friend’s bands play. The guitarist played his guitar like it was a life raft and the drummer had quite the beard. He also played drums so fast it was like he had five arms instead of two. After the gig was over there was a lot of waiting around while Justin did what I assume was band stuff and did not introduce me to anyone. Later that night as we chatted I found out that five years ago when he and I met he had lied to me about his age. He had told me he was 27 but he was really 37. My eyes popped out in shock. I had only been 22. He said he was doing that for his music career. You have to seem young in the music business.
I nodded in understanding and did not make a big deal out of the fact he had been significantly older than he claimed when i was just a 22 year old virgin.I didn’t say what I was really thinking. Which was that the little fib didn’t seem to be doing much for his music career.
Till next time
from this cold climate to your hot one