I Ran Out of Words

Apr 22, 2018



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21:03



Currently, I'm in Dubai, alone in a sports bar and sipping gin and tonic from a clear white glass. I never liked gin and tonic, but I guess appreciating alcohol comes with age. It's quite expensive to indulge to the calling of intoxication nowadays. Everything is expensive nowadays, let's put it at that.

I'm waiting for a boy to sit beside me. My phone died so I have to message him on Facebook using my laptop. He's the same boy I've been seeing since January. We met on the very first week of 2018, and when I went over to his place and he cooked dinner for me. We talked for hours and hours until I ended up sleeping on his bed with his arms wrapped around me. It was a Saturday night, and I was fresh off a heartbreaking relationship with another boy who's world was darker than mine, so his arms became a safe space that entire month. I invited him to one of the parties I went to and I thought that by the end of January he'd be gone and I'd be alone, but he was still there on February, March, and now it's April.

I'm waiting for a boy to sit beside me and I want it to be the same boy who cooked me dinner in January. My third gin and tonic for the night has just arrived. I'm guessing that by the time he arrives, I'll have my fourth or my fifth and my mouth would taste like Marlboro or an ashtray, but if he kisses me I'm guessing he wouldn't know the difference between love and lung cancer. If he loves me by now, he'd be okay with second hand smoking.

The truth is that I thought I'd be drinking alone tonight, but no. No man is an island, the boy says every time we talk about intimacy and other intimate things — that his bed has long been occupied by him and that every time I sleep over it's harder for him to leave at 5:45 AM. I don't sleep over his place as often as I did and even though I'd love to I couldn't. My daily schedule has been filled with work things and when silence arrives I cling to it like it's what I need, like it's what I've been waiting for. But no man is an island, so tonight I wait for him to arrive in my dark lit, cigarette smelling island.

I can no longer pretend, I'm ordering a pint of beer or two. One for me and the other for my soul.

He's not here yet so I don't have anyone to talk to about my trip to Georgia last week. It was fun. I was there with my friend for the weekend and we shot a campaign and a look book and in between shooting rookie (but amazing) models we enjoyed bottles of wine and sulfur baths. Before flying back to Dubai, we went to Fabrika to enjoy more beer and I bought a few things from local designers. At the airport, Duty Free was calling me, so I went and bought a few bottles of skin care essentials from Clinique. A few hours later, after watching a mentally ill Emma Roberts fall in love with an equally depressed boy, I arrived in Dubai. I slept and went back to work.

It's almost 10PM and I've become tired of writing. My words run out faster now. My hands have been trained to click the shutter more than to write. The boy hasn't arrived yet and my pint of beer hasn't been ordered.

Good bye.

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