one time | hood

that one time we had a power cut

It was the day after we'd moved into our new apartment. Some of the wiring was faulty and so that night we were forced to use candle light in order to get anything done. It was horrible, I remember you moaning about how we didn't have any water and so the two of us had driven down the road to Ashton's so we'd be able to shower.

We picked up candles, batteries, a flashlight, M&M's and salt and vinegar crisps at the twenty four hour supermarket in town before making our way back to the apartment.

You'd wanted to sleep in the lounge. You hated to admit it but I knew that you were absolutely terrified of the dark, Jay. You stayed close to my side all night, even having me stand outside the door while you went to the bathroom.

We set up the mattress once again, just like the night before when we'd 'blessed' the house and slept out in the middle of the lounge room again. We couldn't watch tv or go on the Internet or play on our phones or listen to music so we listened to each other. I learnt so much about you that night, Jay.

I'd always thought I kind of knew everything that I needed to know. But there was so much more to you then I had initially thought.

You were scared of the dark. And needles. And the feeling of falling, though you loved heights. And moths, apparently you were fucking terrified of moths. You couldn't leave the house without brushing your teeth. You'd never broken a bone in your body. You'd always wanted to go to New Zealand. Your favourite movie was What a Wonderful Life, simply because you used to watch it with your grandparents. You didn't like Starbucks, simply because of the fact that it was so popular and you'd much rather go to an empty cafe than one crowded with people.

You were terrible at math. Brilliant at English. Your mother wanted you to be a doctor but you couldn't stand the sight of blood. You'd once made out with a girl as a dare. The first guy you properly dated was your best friends older brother, she never spoke to you after that.

There was so much depth to you, Jay, each new conversation was like pulling back a new layer and every word you said fascinated me. I remember you once saying that you were absolutely terrible at making conversation. And you were, god dammit you were, Jay. But there was something about the way you spoke that mesmerised me.

I told you things that I'd never told anyone. I told you that the minute I'd seen you, I wanted to get to know you. I told you about how I still got killer stage fright. I told you about how I worried about my family when I wasn't in town, how I worried about you.

That night we just laid there on the mattress in the middle of the lounge room in our silent apartment. We fucked a few times. At some point you set up the flashlight so that we'd be able to make shadow puppets against the wall. We ate candy and threw M&M's into each other's mouths, missing ninety nine percent of the time because we could hardly see anything due to only having candles and a cheap torch to give us light.

We'd sit there, laughing, tangled in one another, you probably curled into my side because you hated nothing more than the darkness. And we'd sit there and it would be so dark I wouldn't be able to see your face but I kind of knew that you'd be smiling, Jay.

I'd give anything to lay on that mattress on the floor again with you.