Well, We're Not Alone Now - Book One - Alex Turner

My Demon In The Dark

-My Demon In The Dark-

"Contempt loves the silence

It thrives in the dark

With fine winding tendrils

That strangle the heart"

-My Skin-Natalie Merchant-

14th of August 2012

Sun gleamed across the skin of my thigh. My lace up boots rested against the side of the bike, reflections of houses passing by could be seen in their surfaces. My fingers dug into his jacket, my bitten nails no help at all as I clung on. I didn't need them though. My body was relaxed on the back of the bike, the warmth of the sun and him keeping me steady. I followed the line of my arm as it snaked around his waist. The skin had the glow of Summer on it, brown and lean from days of swimming and sunbathing. The hair that blew behind me had been touched by the sun's fingers and was enlaced with bright blond strands, painting away the dark being I'd been when I arrived. I glowed. And inside my mind was a storm cloud that twisted and boiled with all that was slowly drowning me

Time had walked away without a second look at the past. Weeks merged together. Days passed full of things I couldn't remember. I had got used to where I lived. We travelled to record at Joshua Tree and Alex and I had got lost in the desert there, only to find each other again. I could say with certainty that being there was one of the happiest times of my life. We only stayed week or so, but I swear I could still feel the desert dust lightly drifting onto my skin. Still felt the joy of waking up to the freedom of the landscape. There Al was all mine. He taught me to play music, showed me how to record, sang with me, loved me. That was where he still knew me, still saw me for who I was. Then we came back. I suppose the perfection couldn't have carried on forever. The sun has got to set at some point, throwing us into darkness, making us search blindly for what had been seen so easily before. No sooner had we got back, then we were travelling to England so they could play at the Olympic games. I don't think I had ever been so proud of them, of him, until that moment. Watching him on that stage, millions of eyes trained on him, I knew for certainty that, that was a part of him I would never understand. That was the part of him he kept from me. And in that moment, looking up at him from under the stage I don't think I had ever felt so separate from anyone before. I should have known from there it was going to be tricky. I should have realised that going home would affect me so much. But I didn't and I came back to our home expecting it all to go back to normal. The truth was I missed it. My life was so smooth, so perfect, all sunsets and beaches. Nothing happened. I just carried on with what I had, but soon I realised that it wasn't enough. Not without him at least. Each day since we came back I would accompany them to the studio where they spent most of their lives now. At first it had been a joy and a privilege to sit in the two room studio, watching them play, coming up with one wonderful tune after another. However, slowly as the weeks passed it started to lose the allure it once held over me. The walls started to feel claustrophobic, closing in on me. Trapping me within them. I started to venture outside more and more, walking the streets, the hills, the beaches. Trying to find what it was that I needed. Somewhere in the consuming journey of moving here and falling in love with Alex, I had lost something. We lost something. No longer did I fly on my hoop, becoming part of it. That said more to me than anything else. How could I fly when I was so heavy with all that I couldn't say? The truth was I missed home. I missed my country. I missed the sting of rain on my cheeks. I missed the iron grey skies of my homeland that flew over the lush rolling hills. I missed being able to go into a coffee shop and not getting a weird look when I asked for just tea. I missed fish and chips. I missed knowing my people. At the end of the day home is where the heart is and at this moment in time my heart didn't know where to be. For no longer did it's home seem to want it anymore. I hadn't told Alex any of this. How could I when he was still caught up in the magic of LA? Staring off into sunsets, writing, drinking, smoking and making music. It's all he seemed to want anymore. He didn't get tired of the false smiles of waitresses, the copious amounts of white washed teeth and parties. These days when I saw him, he made me feel like I was see through. I was pretty certain he knew something wasn't right, but like me he couldn't utter the words for fear of digging things up. I try to find things with my eyes that indicate that we're in trouble, but I find nothing. All I really knew was that there was this feeling in the air that was numbing us towards each other. In the past I had tried to bring things up, even played briefly with idea of stepping out the door, but even the thought made my heart bleed and burst. Because as he tore his way through me, I would forgive him each and every time. All he had to do was give me a touch and I was completely his again. It's like the meaner he treated me, the more eager I was to please him and persist in this relationship. And why not? Alex had built me up to more than I had ever been before, but then just as I got to that point, he left me alone. Alone to fight off every thought of mistrust and anger. I've tried my best to keep myself up, keep it going, but there is only so much I can do on my own, before I need someone else to help me. Support me. Now the only support I ever got off him was when he would hold me close and tell me he loved me. I would look him in the eye, trying ever so hard to get it past my lips, to remind him that love is a doing word. Those days were long passed. Once he'd understood it, but somewhere between now and then, it had been snatched away. We seemed to be so close, but so far away from each other. The truth is Alex is my strength and my weakness, my faith and my doubt. Now there is a silence between us that is filled with all the chatter of unsaid things. It's like we're afraid to be idle, so we fill up the days, we run on the treadmill, keep slaving away until there's no time for talking. And now the doors are all closed between his heart and mine. Locked away from each other, they are crying out for more love. Love that would flow in between us, take us and hold us above all this shit that was building up between us. If there is an answer to any of our recent troubles, it was more love. But I was struggling to find it on the now barren landscape our relationship. Sometimes he would look at me and I would get a glimpse of it in his eyes. When he kissed me it still danced against my lips, but to catch it I would need him. Need his help. Now if anybody could tell me where to find that, I would do anything to get it.