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Stay (Oh Darlin')
_
Stay. Christ, you make it sound so simple. But then, I have always found a certain amount of simplicity in the words that grace your lips. It’s why I usually smile when you speak to me; I can see something in your face that I know will never be on my own and it is mesmerising. In its own uncomplicated way. But ‘stay’ is your biggest triumph I think. Your grand simplification. Stay. One syllable. It’s just a breath to you. And I think that’s probably the reason for your oversight in every last calculation you made when you uttered it. Your oversight of me.
A long time ago I learnt that people left. They left and they left each other behind. Left pieces of each other strewn across cities, as if it didn’t matter. I watched them and I never could understand why they were so willing to break their own hearts and each other’s and everyone else’s in between. My father went away. I wasn’t young when he did, I was just old enough. Old enough to learn that things were never certain, as long as the earth was turning change was always going to be there. No one can be trusted, not even your family. When he went I learnt that people with broken hearts often just try to reassemble them. People leave each other and then they survive. My father left my mother behind and she cried and cursed and I don’t think she ever really forgot. But she did survive. I decided I’d rather not have to cry so I learnt that ‘Goodbye’ was to be expected every time the word ‘Hello’ left someone’s lips. Hello. People should be more careful with that word. All that promise, and yet it’s rarely sincere. Although you...you have to be the most sincere person I’ve ever known. You never said ‘Hello’ to me. I remember you just smiled, so I chose to say ‘Hello’ to you instead. And I meant it.
I like to keep my face as straight as possible. If you don’t betray anything to the world then how can the world betray you? You see, it’s good logic. Although I’ve still managed to hurt and be hurt all the same. Maybe I didn’t do as good a job of teaching myself as I thought. Maybe my parents should have fought more, cursed more, cried more. Still, there was a comfortable distance between me and the rest of the world. It was lonely at times but at least it was safe. I was happy there, separated from everyone. I’m quite good at keeping my own company. And no one but you has ever noticed that I’m mostly just pretending to breathe. No one but you has ever noticed that, every now and again, I’m not as contented as I seem. People mistake quietness for being ok, they think my sitting there with my guitar, all alone, is a sign that I am placid and alive. I am not placid. If they could hear the noise inside my head then they would know that. Sometimes I don’t think I’m alive either, not in any real sense of the word. Because to be alive you have to live, and I try my best to avoid experiencing that agony. I’ve got a bright enough smile to hide it though, so long as they don’t look me in the eyes. You looked me in the eyes. The thing that frightened me most about that was...you didn’t see the lack of life I expected you to. No. Instead you coaxed life out. I almost felt it. Almost. And then I ran away.
Before, before you, before everything, before that rush of air. Before, back when I was standing alone and watching them live, trying, quietly, to not join in, I found it a lot easier to pretend. I vanished less then. I didn’t have to vanish to believe my own lies. Before you I didn’t think there could be anything worth the risk. But now I’m not so sure. Before you I was always so sure.
I thought I knew reality. I thought that was what I was clinging to. And after I met you I tried to tell myself, for a long time, that that was what we both were doing. Clinging to reality. We were the only two who realised the futility of it all. We were the only ones on the whole of the planet that had worked out that even the earth we were stood on was changing. Shifting constantly. Everything shifting, turning. I thought that was the only explanation for what I saw in your eyes. The recognition there was just relief, excitement at the discovery of someone else so grounded in the truth of it all. The realisation that there was someone else sensible in this world, someone else who had actually managed to learn something from being broken. We had both learnt never to trust. We had both learnt to expect goodbye. I waited for one to be uttered by you, you waited for one to be uttered by me. Neither came. That was why I left the first time. That was why I left the first time but never told you I was going. I couldn’t bring myself to say goodbye.
What I know is that everyone leaves. One way or another. If they don’t choose to leave you then the world will intervene. Yes, the world. The earth, if you’d rather. It doesn’t approve of things that don’t change. It doesn’t see why, if it’s made to move all the time, we can’t shift ourselves too. I think I keep leaving to appease it somewhat. Because no matter what I try, what I think of you will not change the way it ought to. What I feel and what you make me feel will not either. I’m not letting go, so I must make a show of letting go instead. If it looks like I’m moving on, maybe the earth won’t shift this time. Maybe you won’t fall away from me.
Every morning I left I didn’t want to leave. But I had to. And I could never tell you how long I would be gone. Nothing could be made certain. Certainty is too much like staying. I can’t ever trust the word ‘stay’.
Except when you say it. When you say it, oh darlin’, when you say it! Stay. I love the sound of words on your lips. Everything is so believable on your lips. You have honest eyes, though the look in them when you smile is not to be trusted. But your lips. I can hear you saying things in my head. No matter how far away you are I can always hear the sound of your lips. An echo of it at least. And you write it like you speak it. I can hear your lisp, earnest and honest. You say things that make me believe them. You told me that you told someone a lie once – a lie that you believed wasn’t a lie, but when the truth turned out differently you never quite got over it. Nothing you’ve said has ever turned out differently since. And wouldn’t that be nice, Howard. Wouldn’t that be nice.
I’m so close to believing you, Howard.
Howard, do you think it would really be ok to stay?
There’s a strength in you. Darlin’ there’s a strength in you that I don’t think you even recognise. I’ve never known a man so quiet and so well-built. You’ve made your mistakes, that much I know. Because you told me. You told me and I didn’t mind. It made no holes in you. Still so sturdy. So sturdy that I hand over more of myself to you than I have ever handed over to anyone. It’s not because of who I am, it’s because of who you are. I’m not brave enough to give over these things normally. I give people all I can bear to give them without collapsing. But then with you...with you I just collapse. I fold in on myself and become someone more like who I am when I’m alone. Someone more like who I was once before, a long time ago, before I stopped letting life touch me. You let life seep in at the edges when you take hold of me. You think I’m in your veins? No. You’re in mine. I don’t breathe in or out unless you’re with me. And the reason...the reason is because I can trust you not to mind. You value the human a lot more than anyone else I know. You like that humans are not infallible. You like jaded things.
It’s funny how to you and me love is considered an admission. Something which is let slip, not something which is easily told. It’s so unguarded, the moment when you say that word and mean it. The problem is people say it all the time – guarded people say it, callous people say it, everyone says it. Every moment of life is a moment which can be used to express that word, apparently. It’s said too much, it’s lost its honesty. It’s lost its complexity. Except when it comes to me and you. I love you. There, I let it slip again. But it’s not that easy, you know? Yes, I know you know. You terrify me, Howard. Darlin’ you terrify me. All the things you are capable of making me feel, how close you’re bringing me to living. To living and all its anguish. You terrify me so I hate you.
I don’t. No, I don’t. Only sometimes.
Oh Howard, I’m so scared.
Don’t move. Don’t even breathe. I’ll come back, as long as you stay still there. I’ll come back now. Tonight. This minute. Or not. Or not at all. No, no. I won’t come back. I’ll stay still, I’ll stay here. You can move. Go on, please, just go, go now. Tag, you’re it. I’m just too tired. I’m sorry, Howard. I don’t mean it, please don’t leave.
I believe you always, Howard. And so I believed you when you said you loved me. You’d never used the word before, not even for your favourite song. That’s how I knew it was love. You’ve never turned to me and said ‘I love this song’ but you have turned to me and said you love me. Not that place, that track, that time of year. Me. And only me.
And maybe I should know better. Maybe I should be reminding myself of all the people who swore to me they loved – swore they loved me, or someone else I knew, promised it and uttered it every day for years of their lives then left quietly one night with very little ceremony. Remember when your dad went away, Jay. Remember what your mum said, Jay. But I don’t. You’re different, Howard. You exist outside my rules. You must do, because you insist on breaking them. No tears, no love, no living. You say stay and, for a moment at least, I stop moving. For a moment at least, I breathe.
The funny thing about you is you’re beautiful and yet no one ever gives you credit for it. People have always told me I’m nice to look at. I know that sounds arrogant but...I hate it. It’s as though it’s all I have. When I’m alone with my guitar, they don’t look me in the eyes because they’re afraid they won’t like what they see if they go any further than those things which are skin deep. They’re afraid they’ll see nothing, and nothing would scare anyone half to death, don’t you think? You have a handsome face too, Howard. But what’s behind it is so much closer to the skin. Why don’t they see that in you? You say there’s more to see in me too, but I suspect you’re the only one who sees it. You know too much of me. You see too much of me. By rights I should demand for you to leave me alone. I should insist that you go. Don’t write to me again, Howard Donald, you keep breaking all my rules. Stop breaking all my rules.
I mean, just listen to you! With your ‘stay’ and your simplicity. Your honesty. Just look at you and the way you look at me. The way you hold me like I might break. I might, but you’re not supposed to know that. It’s absurd I ever let you this close. It’s absurd that I let you hold my hand or hear me cry. You shouldn’t have looked into my eyes, Howard. Coz darlin’, you’ve seen too much now. I was nice to look at when I was sitting on that beach with my guitar, look at what you see now. Listen to what you’re hearing now. So much mess, so much disaster. And what if I learnt from my dad how to hurt people? What if mum managed to teach me how to curse? Then what will become of you?
You and your promises. Promises. It’s not that I don’t believe them, not when they come from you anyway. But Howard, but darlin’, look what you’ve done. You’ve broken all my rules and now I don’t know what to do. I shouldn’t believe in promises. I didn’t until I met you.
This mess is yours to keep if you still want it.
It’s human, far too human to be good.
Because I never went anywhere, darlin’.
No, darlin’, I never really left you.
So just come looking and you can have me.
Because ‘stay’, it sounds so simple on your lips.
Tell me it’s simple with your lips.
Because, you must know, I’m trying, Howard.
Darlin’, please know I’m trying.
I’m trying, I really am.
Oh darlin’, know I’m trying.
I’m trying. Just for you.
Stay. Christ, you make it sound so simple. But then, I have always found a certain amount of simplicity in the words that grace your lips. It’s why I usually smile when you speak to me; I can see something in your face that I know will never be on my own and it is mesmerising. In its own uncomplicated way. But ‘stay’ is your biggest triumph I think. Your grand simplification. Stay. One syllable. It’s just a breath to you. And I think that’s probably the reason for your oversight in every last calculation you made when you uttered it. Your oversight of me.
A long time ago I learnt that people left. They left and they left each other behind. Left pieces of each other strewn across cities, as if it didn’t matter. I watched them and I never could understand why they were so willing to break their own hearts and each other’s and everyone else’s in between. My father went away. I wasn’t young when he did, I was just old enough. Old enough to learn that things were never certain, as long as the earth was turning change was always going to be there. No one can be trusted, not even your family. When he went I learnt that people with broken hearts often just try to reassemble them. People leave each other and then they survive. My father left my mother behind and she cried and cursed and I don’t think she ever really forgot. But she did survive. I decided I’d rather not have to cry so I learnt that ‘Goodbye’ was to be expected every time the word ‘Hello’ left someone’s lips. Hello. People should be more careful with that word. All that promise, and yet it’s rarely sincere. Although you...you have to be the most sincere person I’ve ever known. You never said ‘Hello’ to me. I remember you just smiled, so I chose to say ‘Hello’ to you instead. And I meant it.
I like to keep my face as straight as possible. If you don’t betray anything to the world then how can the world betray you? You see, it’s good logic. Although I’ve still managed to hurt and be hurt all the same. Maybe I didn’t do as good a job of teaching myself as I thought. Maybe my parents should have fought more, cursed more, cried more. Still, there was a comfortable distance between me and the rest of the world. It was lonely at times but at least it was safe. I was happy there, separated from everyone. I’m quite good at keeping my own company. And no one but you has ever noticed that I’m mostly just pretending to breathe. No one but you has ever noticed that, every now and again, I’m not as contented as I seem. People mistake quietness for being ok, they think my sitting there with my guitar, all alone, is a sign that I am placid and alive. I am not placid. If they could hear the noise inside my head then they would know that. Sometimes I don’t think I’m alive either, not in any real sense of the word. Because to be alive you have to live, and I try my best to avoid experiencing that agony. I’ve got a bright enough smile to hide it though, so long as they don’t look me in the eyes. You looked me in the eyes. The thing that frightened me most about that was...you didn’t see the lack of life I expected you to. No. Instead you coaxed life out. I almost felt it. Almost. And then I ran away.
Before, before you, before everything, before that rush of air. Before, back when I was standing alone and watching them live, trying, quietly, to not join in, I found it a lot easier to pretend. I vanished less then. I didn’t have to vanish to believe my own lies. Before you I didn’t think there could be anything worth the risk. But now I’m not so sure. Before you I was always so sure.
I thought I knew reality. I thought that was what I was clinging to. And after I met you I tried to tell myself, for a long time, that that was what we both were doing. Clinging to reality. We were the only two who realised the futility of it all. We were the only ones on the whole of the planet that had worked out that even the earth we were stood on was changing. Shifting constantly. Everything shifting, turning. I thought that was the only explanation for what I saw in your eyes. The recognition there was just relief, excitement at the discovery of someone else so grounded in the truth of it all. The realisation that there was someone else sensible in this world, someone else who had actually managed to learn something from being broken. We had both learnt never to trust. We had both learnt to expect goodbye. I waited for one to be uttered by you, you waited for one to be uttered by me. Neither came. That was why I left the first time. That was why I left the first time but never told you I was going. I couldn’t bring myself to say goodbye.
What I know is that everyone leaves. One way or another. If they don’t choose to leave you then the world will intervene. Yes, the world. The earth, if you’d rather. It doesn’t approve of things that don’t change. It doesn’t see why, if it’s made to move all the time, we can’t shift ourselves too. I think I keep leaving to appease it somewhat. Because no matter what I try, what I think of you will not change the way it ought to. What I feel and what you make me feel will not either. I’m not letting go, so I must make a show of letting go instead. If it looks like I’m moving on, maybe the earth won’t shift this time. Maybe you won’t fall away from me.
Every morning I left I didn’t want to leave. But I had to. And I could never tell you how long I would be gone. Nothing could be made certain. Certainty is too much like staying. I can’t ever trust the word ‘stay’.
Except when you say it. When you say it, oh darlin’, when you say it! Stay. I love the sound of words on your lips. Everything is so believable on your lips. You have honest eyes, though the look in them when you smile is not to be trusted. But your lips. I can hear you saying things in my head. No matter how far away you are I can always hear the sound of your lips. An echo of it at least. And you write it like you speak it. I can hear your lisp, earnest and honest. You say things that make me believe them. You told me that you told someone a lie once – a lie that you believed wasn’t a lie, but when the truth turned out differently you never quite got over it. Nothing you’ve said has ever turned out differently since. And wouldn’t that be nice, Howard. Wouldn’t that be nice.
I’m so close to believing you, Howard.
Howard, do you think it would really be ok to stay?
There’s a strength in you. Darlin’ there’s a strength in you that I don’t think you even recognise. I’ve never known a man so quiet and so well-built. You’ve made your mistakes, that much I know. Because you told me. You told me and I didn’t mind. It made no holes in you. Still so sturdy. So sturdy that I hand over more of myself to you than I have ever handed over to anyone. It’s not because of who I am, it’s because of who you are. I’m not brave enough to give over these things normally. I give people all I can bear to give them without collapsing. But then with you...with you I just collapse. I fold in on myself and become someone more like who I am when I’m alone. Someone more like who I was once before, a long time ago, before I stopped letting life touch me. You let life seep in at the edges when you take hold of me. You think I’m in your veins? No. You’re in mine. I don’t breathe in or out unless you’re with me. And the reason...the reason is because I can trust you not to mind. You value the human a lot more than anyone else I know. You like that humans are not infallible. You like jaded things.
It’s funny how to you and me love is considered an admission. Something which is let slip, not something which is easily told. It’s so unguarded, the moment when you say that word and mean it. The problem is people say it all the time – guarded people say it, callous people say it, everyone says it. Every moment of life is a moment which can be used to express that word, apparently. It’s said too much, it’s lost its honesty. It’s lost its complexity. Except when it comes to me and you. I love you. There, I let it slip again. But it’s not that easy, you know? Yes, I know you know. You terrify me, Howard. Darlin’ you terrify me. All the things you are capable of making me feel, how close you’re bringing me to living. To living and all its anguish. You terrify me so I hate you.
I don’t. No, I don’t. Only sometimes.
Oh Howard, I’m so scared.
Don’t move. Don’t even breathe. I’ll come back, as long as you stay still there. I’ll come back now. Tonight. This minute. Or not. Or not at all. No, no. I won’t come back. I’ll stay still, I’ll stay here. You can move. Go on, please, just go, go now. Tag, you’re it. I’m just too tired. I’m sorry, Howard. I don’t mean it, please don’t leave.
I believe you always, Howard. And so I believed you when you said you loved me. You’d never used the word before, not even for your favourite song. That’s how I knew it was love. You’ve never turned to me and said ‘I love this song’ but you have turned to me and said you love me. Not that place, that track, that time of year. Me. And only me.
And maybe I should know better. Maybe I should be reminding myself of all the people who swore to me they loved – swore they loved me, or someone else I knew, promised it and uttered it every day for years of their lives then left quietly one night with very little ceremony. Remember when your dad went away, Jay. Remember what your mum said, Jay. But I don’t. You’re different, Howard. You exist outside my rules. You must do, because you insist on breaking them. No tears, no love, no living. You say stay and, for a moment at least, I stop moving. For a moment at least, I breathe.
The funny thing about you is you’re beautiful and yet no one ever gives you credit for it. People have always told me I’m nice to look at. I know that sounds arrogant but...I hate it. It’s as though it’s all I have. When I’m alone with my guitar, they don’t look me in the eyes because they’re afraid they won’t like what they see if they go any further than those things which are skin deep. They’re afraid they’ll see nothing, and nothing would scare anyone half to death, don’t you think? You have a handsome face too, Howard. But what’s behind it is so much closer to the skin. Why don’t they see that in you? You say there’s more to see in me too, but I suspect you’re the only one who sees it. You know too much of me. You see too much of me. By rights I should demand for you to leave me alone. I should insist that you go. Don’t write to me again, Howard Donald, you keep breaking all my rules. Stop breaking all my rules.
I mean, just listen to you! With your ‘stay’ and your simplicity. Your honesty. Just look at you and the way you look at me. The way you hold me like I might break. I might, but you’re not supposed to know that. It’s absurd I ever let you this close. It’s absurd that I let you hold my hand or hear me cry. You shouldn’t have looked into my eyes, Howard. Coz darlin’, you’ve seen too much now. I was nice to look at when I was sitting on that beach with my guitar, look at what you see now. Listen to what you’re hearing now. So much mess, so much disaster. And what if I learnt from my dad how to hurt people? What if mum managed to teach me how to curse? Then what will become of you?
You and your promises. Promises. It’s not that I don’t believe them, not when they come from you anyway. But Howard, but darlin’, look what you’ve done. You’ve broken all my rules and now I don’t know what to do. I shouldn’t believe in promises. I didn’t until I met you.
This mess is yours to keep if you still want it.
It’s human, far too human to be good.
Because I never went anywhere, darlin’.
No, darlin’, I never really left you.
So just come looking and you can have me.
Because ‘stay’, it sounds so simple on your lips.
Tell me it’s simple with your lips.
Because, you must know, I’m trying, Howard.
Darlin’, please know I’m trying.
I’m trying, I really am.
Oh darlin’, know I’m trying.
I’m trying. Just for you.