The archive of the forgotten

My precious friend

I look at the raindrops trailling down the train window like tears on my face. I wipe one away with my sleeve and smile bittersweetly. Running away has never been particularly hard for me I have had a talent for it since I was young but leaving, leaving is different. Looking back at the house which was once full of happy memories, well it still is, you just can't continue those memories. The looking back is so hard because you realise you never want to return, because you must face your inability to live happy enough. Your unhappiness, your own guilt over feeling the way you do. I am running away from the love I so crave and I am leaving you there without the love you deserve. We both know I am not running from him, I am running from my father, I hope he understand.

I hate the fact that when I look back on memories, or pictures from such good times I'm not happy about it. I only feel a longing to be anywhere but in this moment, feeling like I do. I long to return to the time of the picture or perhaps not time. Only the feeling and only because I forget I didn't feel okay back than either. I look at the horizon and wish I can find somewhere where I can live. I do not want to dwell on the tragedy of my family, my mother is a nut, my father loses his ability to speak when I see him. I want to escape it, I don't want anyone to know my tragedy or me anymore. Unless they are worth it.

But even with all of this I still like our particular memories, I like the happiness I get from them but the lines have been blurring, I no longer understand whether it hurts or it helps. I know that I can't force you to follow me but I wish I could. I still like the beautiful parts of us, Ewan. You are still beautiful to me, we both know I still love you. But I need to save myself. I need to save you too, my ewan.

I look at the passing land as we near Paris. It is very different from the beautiful England I am so used to. But it feels free. Maybe I am meant to be free, I am riding this train of faith to the place when I belong. And evergrowing path with no particular direction but forward, hopefully always forward. I wish I could've take you Ewan. I should have.

the nightly city is beautifully lit by a lot of tiny little lights. The lights of beating hearts of lovers. Hearts are fluttering in the streets as I marvel at the cities beauty. I chuckle, how could I break someone's heart in this beautiful city. I can't we both know I cannot break his heart, because I still love him. It is just always so complicated. I take a deep breath as I walk to a phone booth and put down my bags and start to type in a number, A number I know by heart.

Ewan

The phone in the phone booth rings. I immediately pick it up and wipe my black long hair out of my face, "Where the fuck are you Jace? I was worried sick." "I am sorry my sunlight, I didn't mean to scare you" There is a slight pause. I look at my nails with black nail varnish. "Well, I did worry Jace..... Where are you? Do I need to get you with the bike?" He sighs on the other side of the phone. "I wanted to tell you earlier but I was afraid you would stop me from leaving." I feel tears in my eyes. "Just tell me the truth." I say while adjusting my leather jacket full of pins.

"I am in paris."

I need to put my hand in front of my mouth so he won't hear my gasp. He has abandoned me, we promised eachother something. He has left me, why has he left me. "Sunlight?" "Yes." I answer. "I am sorry." "It is alright my rain. I just wish you said it a little earlier. I was extremely frightened you were...." Why was I frightened? I was frightened that he would leave me. He has. So how do I end this sentence. "Not okay" I smile and try not to cry as I look at the flithy ceiling of the booth. "If this is what you need I would always support you Jace." I say while it feels like he is ripping up my trust. "Don't let me hear you say life's taking you nowhere, angel" I say as I quote Bowie. I take a deep breath and light my cigarette. 

I chuckle. "I bought something for you. It is the Bowie album I always used to listen with you. I wrote down all the lyrics and what I think it means, or doesn't mean." I hear his laugh at the other side of the line and I smile, it is foolish how much I love this man. I close my eyes and imagine his beautiful face with blue eyes and his short blonde hair. I fiddle with my long black hair and wait till I know what I want to say. "So what is your adress? I will send the record. I hope you have a player." he chuckles. "I will somehow get it." He gives me an adress. "But it might change because it is a squat." I chuckle "Of course it is! I will just send it to the post office my rain" He agrees. "I need to go." He says. "I love you." I say he chuckles. "Je t'aime." He never says it back.... "Remember, you are my precious friend" He says. I nod. "My dearest friend" I whisper.

I walk into the London rain towards my motorbike when I feel anger and sadness. I kick the wheel of my bike in frustration and hurt my toe despite my combat boots. I curse between my teeth before screaming in sadness. Somebody looks at me. "What are you looking at mate!" I say with a smile. How easily I can switch between the two ewan's, one of them designed for me, one of them designed for my family and the outside world.

Jace

I arrive in the squat building where I meet some of the other punks who show me around the building. It is surprisingly clean and it looks like a time machine to the victorian era. "So who is the leader here?" I ask, "He isn't here right now." A girl who looks like a boy responds. "He'll be here tomorrow or the day after." I nod. "Let me show you around" she says. We look around. I look at a portrait. "Who is that." "Supposedly the last owner. Some kind of Victorian english bastard." I nod and wipe away the dust, it reveals a beautiful face and black hair which graciously rests on his shoulders. "He looks....." "Beautiful?" The girls asks. "You are complimenting a dead man." She jokes. I shake my head, he looks like Ewan.

Okay....so this is actually based on Yves and Cyril but in the 80's or something!! It needs a lot of edits but someone was very impatient!!!!!!!!!!!