Martijn Winkel

I will find a way to get closer to you. Even my hands have come up with their own plans to spend time with you. But spending time together is not what I’m worried about. It’s those damn feelings. Those constant feelings that take control whenever I least expect them to. I walk barefoot through the living room in my underwear in the middle of the night. Without a sound, I tiptoed along the couch, past the dining table to the open kitchen. Not because I have to be quiet from anyone, but because I do it unconsciously. The night is a different world, and sometimes I behave accordingly, like a kind of etiquette. Respectfully, I nod my head to make a cup of tea.

As I tiptoed my way to the kitchen sink, I consciously let my heels touch the cold floor again and tried to stand up straight. The cold makes it harder and my nipples stiffen in icy terror. My back makes a cracking sound in displeasure as I try to realign my vertebrae. Fall has begun again, and bare branches tap against the kitchen windows like long fingernails. Like strangers longing to get inside to discuss exactly how we are going to solve this dilemma. These tangled wires of life have finally caught up with me and are suffocating me in a way. And yet, you are a welcome escape. A fuzzy feeling tickling my brain. Temporary, like everything else in life, but you’re here now.

I want to dance, drink, and party. I want to quit my job, catch a plane to somewhere exotic, and disappear for months. I want to tell my parents how much I love them and hope they never get any older than they are now. I want to hug my friends and tell them that everything will be okay and that they shouldn’t give up on love. I want to fight for equal rights and freedom of speech. Scream from the mountains until I no longer have a voice. I want to dive into the deep blue sea and never return to shore. And in the end, I wanted nothing at all. What is it that I actually want in life? Who do I want to become before my time runs out? I want everything and absolutely nothing at the same time.

I open my kitchen cabinet and grab a large mug with a goat in a clock on it, which I fill with boiling hot water. Then I open another cabinet and choose a teabag, which I drown in the mug. The night is quiet and calm, but my mind is not. And I’m afraid Tension Tamer Tea isn’t going to change this either. This negative spiral in my brain rears its head around every five years or so. And every time I leave the door open for him. Over the years, I’ve learned to embrace all the different pieces of myself, and that includes this ugly side. Come on in; I have been expecting you. Usually, by then, I am past the point of being able to put things into perspective. Emotion has already taken full control of the steering wheel. But that doesn’t matter because I’d rather feel too much than barely anything.

Impatiently, I flick my tea bag into the trash can too soon, because weak tea it is. It won’t calm down my way of thinking right now anyway. Everything is a temporary distraction. And then I drift back to you, my fuzzy brain monster. It’s the middle of the night, so I can’t really send you a message now, can I? Well, actually, I can, but you won’t be awake to read it or respond. I decided to send you a “I can’t sleep” message anyway, because it can’t really hurt.

I keep staring at the screen of my phone, wishing you would come online. It would be quite perfect for someone to pop online to listen to my complaints right now. But after a few seconds, I tuck my phone back between the waistband of my briefs. The warm screen places a gentle kiss on my hip. This way, you’re still with me in a strange way. I gently blow over the rim of my mug, and the water recedes anxiously. Does my breath still smell like garlic? In a few hours, the sun will rise again, and a new day will begin, but I’m not quite sure if I’m ready for a new day just yet. After all, a day is just another day. And there will always be a new one until one day there won’t. At least not for me.

Tomorrow is a Wednesday. Or actually that Wednesday has already started a long time ago; it’s still night after all. The day is full of meetings, difficult conversations to be had, and problems to look into and solve. Nothing I can’t handle, really. I’ll get through. In a few hours I’ll cycle to work with my head still in slumber mode, but enough coffee will get me through the day. When I get there, everything will be done on autopilot anyway. The thing that will probably get me through the day is most likely actually you, as cliché as that sounds. My current questionable brain twister. Something new and undiscovered that excites my senses. I wonder how long it will last, because everything is temporary. But maybe you’ll surprise me in a way and stay a little longer. Or maybe I’ll eventually be the one to leave because I might end up waiting for something that will never happen.

You confuse me quite a bit. Or maybe I confuse myself more with the thought that this can shape itself into something that will give me what I am looking for. What I need and what I deserve. But do I even remember what I actually deserve? And can someone else provide that? I have always been there for others, and I have always given more than I probably should. I am the constant sturdy rock, the shoulder to lean on. Maybe it’s my personality, or maybe I was just raised that way. Maybe I’m just afraid to ask for what I really want. Someone that can be here for me for just a moment. When I am at my saddest with thick tears running down my cheeks while green snot drips from my nose. Something like this usually only happens once you are in a relationship and those walls have slowly crumbled. When you’re past the rainbow and dare to open up a bit more, it’s always so easy how some people can pull their hands off something when it starts getting too deep. Too emotional, too attached. And I can be very clingy.

‘You’ve always been there for someone else. And I’m afraid he can’t be there for you’, one of my friends says. But then who will it be? Maybe I should open up the window next time and let the branches join in on the conversation. Let my Tension Tamer tea do its work a little longer. Maybe the next night will bring me some answers. Or maybe it won’t.