I’m stood near a swimming pool. There’s a party going on with people I don’t like. Loads of coked up fucks imagining themselves as vaguely interesting while parading their partially naked bodies around as if nudity were somehow a new and interesting invention. I’m smoking a cigarette and drinking bourbon even though it plays havoc with my stomach. There’s this girl I’m seeing. She’s blonde. The only blonde I’ve ever dated, in fact. She wants to be just like them, but I’m too suspicious to ever fall for such a trap. I don’t even know why we’re together. It’s not the sex, because the sex is merely okay, and when has okay ever been enough? It’s not even comfort, because she thinks I’m boring and resents the fact that I have no interest in being like those around me. As for myself, her idiotic ways are numbing, as is her constant need to be seen. Her beauty is only skin deep, whereas I crave something that can’t be contained. She flirts with other guys. Maybe she does it on purpose, or maybe it’s no big deal. On occasion, she’ll stay out all night and claim to have slept over at a girlfriend’s place. Did she cheat? Did she let another guy fill her up with his stuff? Truth be told, I’m not that bothered. She means very little to me. But, we stay together because it looks good to family and friends, and maybe deep down we’re afraid of being alone. Listening to the Lost Highway soundtrack on my earphones to block out the shit some dickhead DJ is playing, everyone is celebrating the moment, but not I. As the liquor takes hold, I imagine what it would’ve been like if I’d have kept a collection of pubic hair from all of my ex lovers. The thought makes me smile, but not as much as the sight of her puking up in the pool causing everyone to flee in disgust. There was a time when I used to feel like an alien; when to sit within my skin filled me with nothing but terror, but now it’s all good. I’m my own man, and despite what they’ve tried drilling into me over the years, I’ve stood firm. And where are they now? What became of those who knew better? Married and buried, that’s where. There’s a magic moment out there- I know there is. It’s kept itself hidden for so long; I can feel it just on the other side of knowing. Something hidden- a love that devours all. Like words on a page. Like paint on a canvas. Like a hand around her throat as the sky falls down along with dead birds and butterflies that fill the pool like frogspawn. As our lips meet, there are no yesterday’s, and no tomorrow’s, only saliva.