Inspired by a very true story.
The wind blows my dry hair through the breathless, barren, air. I watch my fingers dance to their own rhythm. Whilst the others grip the steering wheel, like a captain grasping his mighty helm.
“Liberté. This is liberté.”
I drift through the land of the unknown, like a ship sailing outward to sea, searching for a far away land. I have erased that familiar scent from my skin. My body is finally my own again, not shackled to the past. Not afraid of the future. My hair untouched by addictive hands and my legs unshaken from the powers of others, just my own.
“I don’t regret it”
Whatever I did. I did for myself. He remained unscathed and I’m relieved. Now, every time I think of that moment, I shall thank him. I got freedom. Nothing else, just freedom. I didn’t value our time together, that’s the truth. And I never will. I will, however, value what that October taught me. What it showed me.
“What did it teach me?”
Back to the fragile, crisp winter air.
The shorter nights were here to stay. My unsettled ways and your outspoken energy. Intelligence was your sun and peaceful solitude, your moon. You kept secrets as deep as the ocean and locked them all under surface. A brief pit stop in my map, the short lived energy stayed as long as it could. Until it couldn’t. I was taken by the breath of fresh air. The unfamiliar sound of your voice. It made me feel inexperienced, as if I was doing something contemporary and virginal. I was in a foreign land and I think I liked it?
The traces of finger tips on my skin have always left me burned. So I wait carefully, like a predator hunting for its prey. Eyes sharp, focus stiff. Any wrong word or action and I let my fearful mind control me. Eat me up. But to my surprise, it’s a warm and healthy capture. I feel fine. Stars crossed in unison. How long will this one last?
Two unstable energies don’t make stable. That’s what I learnt. They cause friction, they cause eruptions. That’s what I learnt. The friction propelled me away from the wrong path. It was my petrol, it pushed me from the place I didn’t belong. Kept me hot, kept me bothered. I was in the middle of removing that familiar scent from my skin, when you came. I was charged up and ready at the sound of “go”. You tasted outlandish and sounded eccentric. It awoke my inner Bertha Mason. That I cherish. But I couldn’t let the traces mould into my skin. I didn't like it there anymore. So I grab the keys.
Now, I can’t see you in the rear view mirror. And I’m glad. Short lived and desolate. Oddly tasteful but I just needed to be satisfied. That I’ll admit. Not that I do, but when I look back, that October will stay with me. Not as long as the others but it will. And there’s nothing wrong in that.
The wind blows my hair through the breathless, barren, air. I watch my fingers dance in their own rhythm. Whilst the others grip the steering wheel, like a captain grasping his mighty helm. I scream at the top of my lungs. I’ve been held captive by the knots of my emotions for far too long. When I think back to that October, I suddenly realise something.
Yes, you gave me liberté. But you also gave me back. The others never did. You allowed me to enter but you let me leave.
After all this time, I finally understand. You were never the knight in shining armour.
You were the getaway car.
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