Sunday, 27 October 2013

You're Not Coming Back Again 6

I honestly wondered if forever had been for me, if I was ok with waking up to the same person and seeing them onwards from age 21, someone who I had met when I was 17. Was it ok? I had been obscure and heavily covered by another piece of thick fabric over Miles’ eyes and I could see his lips, but what if I could imagine someone else?

Looking back, nothing was in place yet, we had still felt not too comfortable with even holding hands and maybe the eternity I had been imagining wasn’t the one awaiting for both of us.

And then I had seen her, it was weird to approach someone else, all the girls were knocked down and you had approached me. I had been the one who snapped, taking you with me.

I thought of our males as well, still confused about my attraction as it was equally weighted in both hands. 

I had really thought about other men and with Miles crawled up against the sofa.

It had been odd, him shooing me away saying that he could never see me again, because nothing will last. I was never as close to anyone as he had been to his parents, we’d just eat together and break the crackers at Christmas. 

While Miles felt on the edge of everything 

and when he had jumped

I had only thought of dragging him out

and I had thought that if my love wasn’t enough

I don’t want to give it.

I don’t know what had crossed my mind then and it had been getting worse.

And there she was with her curious eyes. 

Sometimes you fall asleep with people, who aren’t even worth a pinky of your ex, but you still do it. While I had kissed her it had been different from with Miles, it wasn’t about her lips or how my lips had taken the lipstick from hers, it was about the fact that I had been cheating

and I wanted that forever back with Miles, but maybe because I knew it wasn’t coming back. 

Were the words Alex had scribbled to me once we had considered getting back together even with Alexa. I had read them before and even more when he had fallen asleep, rereading his old journal entries to get some lyrics, some more concentrated misery for a change.

Paris when I look back was surrounded by pleasant memories, because I don’t want to recall the screaming at each other telling both of us to just go for it. One of us always stepping back, yet whenever any of us wanted a shag we’d go for it, giggling even, throwing the bed covers off and sucking each other. 

I had started flicking even more, I still do sometimes and Alex just watches me.

Paris kept getting worse, which is funny because it’s been up and down, like once I had asked why hadn’t he called Alexa for the past few days and there had been a piercing silence, no glares, nothing had reached his eyes, instead he suggested eating in the garden and I had followed and it had been night already. I wondered if he had cried, I wondered what the fuck would happen. We had moments when we’d start drunkly dancing and I had wondered why are we in such a whirlwind?

Why can’t we just be together?

Why can’t we?

The thought of recording an album I think burst from the ashes of what we had been, as Alex had started coming to me more recently and sometimes we wouldn’t talk, we would just hold each other, I’d just open the door and fling him against the wall, dropping to my knees and undoing his jeans and he’d been hard already.

I have no idea what we’ve been doing.

“Miles, I have to go.” Alex sighs and I know he should at some point and he’s been getting texts, it’s both usual for him and Arielle to ignore each other, but I just nodded as I started playing with the bottom of his shirt, which would’ve raised eyebrows, but today it was different. He went to peek on Arabella, grabbed his leather jacket and started heading towards the door, not looking back.

“Do you want me to apologize, is that what you want?”

Sometimes I wish you’d just tell me to go away, but that’s the thing besides the first time, it’s always been me who stood up and gave in, wondering how would the world crumble again. 

Alex, like burnt turns around and his hands are in his pockets and he looks down and shakes his head. 

“No. We’ve both fucked up and I don’t know... why. I’ll see you.” And he waves and walks off to which Arabella starts screaming loudly so I stand for a second and I want to yank Alex’s hand and pull him in, but I don’t, feeling loneliness slap me across the face as I go back in and grab her instantly, start rocking her for a while, hearing the door unlock, but I keep rocking her, making sure it’s not just her being grumpy from a woken dream and go towards the kitchen to see Alex warming up the milk. 

“I won’t leave while she’s crying.” I just blink and Arabella, cries a bit louder, actually much louder and we both start fumbling with the milk heater and pressing the wrong buttons at once, until I push Alex’s hand away and let it heat up faster. 

“I’m not a bad dad, ok.” I feel frustrated and tired.

“That doesn’t change the fact that I can help.”

“I’m ok being a single dad.”

Maybe it’s better when I’m alone, but I can’t keep alone, I keep clinging to someone, I get an one-night stand and I’m the one with the morning kisses and the arranged date, because I’ve stepped the line already. 

She ends up eating and I sit there, still heart broken and Alex leaves in the end, we don’t say anything and I’m left alone with Arabella. I wonder sometimes what would she ever tell me and Alex and how will she be when she’ll grow up. I wonder if Arabella was her mother’s bad guess and maybe I should’ve suggested a gender neutral name somehow, but I don’t know. I wonder when she’ll start bringing other people over and I’ll have to give her the sex ed talk. I wonder when she’ll talk and I feel bad that I want her to listen, because she absorbs everything which happens in this household.

I just wish I could give her more love, because I do love her, but maybe I’m thinking of Alex too much. Once she’s done she starts crying again and I start rocking her for a long while, my whole being scared that I can’t calm her down, so I take two toys at once and start fiddling with them with the other hand, my left hand already numb from holding her, so I switch arms, careful not to drop her.

Funny, when you think that it’s hard to hold babies, it’s really not, a bit scary, but it’s comforting and I pull her closer to me, feeling her warmth and I sigh happily as she relaxes and I gently kiss her forehead. 

Sometimes I wish we were still friends, laughing and Miles had given me this shirt with his then band and I had worn it live. I’m lying. We’ve always been into each other. Miles had been flushed the rest of the night and watched me and even then we had stayed the night together, Miles on the floor, but he made sure to watch me take it off. 

I tried to dettach myself further from Alex we both tried and that’s why I had made my own record, but I still ended up calling him, because in my head as I tried banning him from my apartment, calling was still ok. So we talked a lot, played guitar a lot. 

Arielle is ok, with her and Alex not as attached and it was ok, just the fact that I didn’t like her in her position at all, as if she had the crown which landed in her hands for a misunderstanding and the world was watching.

Oh, the world was watching.

There are many ways I can come out.

There is twitter, there is facebook, there is instagram, there is NME and every possible magazine which will be excited to publish it. I had called Alex this morning when I had woken up and after Arabella had decided it was time for her to be entertained by every thing in the house and the window seemed most appealing and reading a few articles on the internet on “mom” websites, I honestly wondered if I was the only male who even checked. Looking at it, well, it felt as if no man cared really and I feel disgusted by all, like even when you turn on television, it’s not even sometimes about the lack of LGBT visbility but rather how both genders are portrayed and it annoys me. Not only I don’t exist or I’m the friend in the corner but I should never even go close my kid or single dads are seen as massive achievements, while moms are judged. I’m no better, I was just as confused by how to feed the baby, which dippers are better and everything, it just so happens I was born with a penis and I am cisgender and that’s it and automatically I get some benefit, but being gay takes it all away sometimes. 

Arabella’s mom had to choose if she was ok with me being gay, to which she didn’t care but such cunts as Russia do. 

In the end I watch Mulan with Arabella, knowing that she’s too young and when Alex calls, I try to ignore that it’s him on the phone and I tell Arabella that it’s ok to be who you are. I keep talking to her during the movie and I leave Alex on speaker, maybe irritated or maybe lonely to a massive extent. 

In the end I end the call with Al and get Arabella ready putting her in a polka dot onesie as she blows bubbles, displeased but she doesn’t cry thankfully and I get the baby carriage out, feeling anxious and wondering if the photos will appear. 

Should I just instagram her? It’s not that no one knows Lila Grace’s face for instance and in the end, the commotion will occur, how does she look like, who is the mother, obviously presuming that I’m the biological father. We go outside and I nod to a neighbor, happily moving faster until I’m outside and I make my way to the park and I get a bunch of curious faces and smiles, people peeking in and smiling at Arabella who watches the sky and I can’t blame her, I would do the same.

I’m sweating, anxiously, trying to get to the park, not even sure what is less likely to cause a stir. Maybe it’s a good thing that I’m alone for now without Alex, he would surely attract attention, but in the end I see someone with a camera as I get to the park and stop, sitting on a bench.

“Shit.” I mutter as the guy tries to get closer, hiding behind the bushes, but his hair is seen clearly along with his camera. I watch him, as if I’m a lion in a cage, get closer, out of the bushes and soon enough he’s just taking photos of my face. He doesn’t ask me anything.

I stand up and that’s when he asks me whose baby is it. I will get shot by the publicist. He tried to convince me to do an interview but I just didn’t want to and Arabella needs fresh air. 

I just ignore the bloke and keep walking on. The photos had been taken and I’m even happy that none were taken exactly of Arabella, at least the ones I’ve noticed. We stop at the newsagents and I check the headlines to remember how they will look before I will see them tomorrow in Al’s hands. 

Maybe I should tweet something before people think I’ve abducted a baby. But then I’ve been told to keep my head down, but then what would that do? People think I’m straight and have linked me with models, what good does it do?

People come out, people inspire people.

I take out my phone and I close my eyes.

It’s weird.

I feel like I’ll be added to some other circle.

Well, for sure I’m not putting her on instagram. I open twitter, at least it’s ok if it’s short. I’ve been on hiatus for a while, so maybe it won’t be such big news. I start throwing the phone up and Arabella watches me and I look at her soft blue eyes. I don’t think she’d want a coward dad.

What if she’s gay too?

The sooner I do it, the less commotion later. 

I sigh and force myself, I’m going after my own thoughts. 

Because if I was a teenager and someone came out, it would different or when I had been kicked out by my parents,

if someone who I cared would come out


Arabella kicks the wall of the carriage and I take her out of it, putting her besides me on the sofa and I give her the clown. 

C’mon, Miles, you should be with Arabella.

“Proud- No, sounds like shite. Arabella, darling what do you think?” Arabella just does bubbles. 

Maybe I should call Al?

“Before any dumb rumor spreads, I’m a proud father”

I keep retyping too many ideas as I take Arabella’s little hand and she watches me. 

Fuck. I erase everything

“#proudgaydad” and I send it. But I turn off the mobile and start biting my lips, because I can’t smoke, not in front of Arabella, I don’t want to cause more damage than I might’ve done for my own sanity. 


As usual, I'm anxious about this chapter, I've thought for a long while about Miles coming out to the public and I was anxious in how to write it and make it happen, the whole idea, so yeah.

I hope you enjoyed it and here it is a chapter as promised.

I missed writing from Alex's point of view and all my stories are from Miles' point of view XD and I felt bad after I wrote the chunk because I'm quite strict to sticking to one's point of view and I decided to use it from Miles' memory reading Al's notes because the thoughts are on flashback and they ended up being my fave part of the chapter. They remind me vaguely of one of favourite works of fiction which had well a very bizarre way of telling and there was a whole chunk from another person's point of view in letters, so I was like, yeah, seems like it a bit. 

I'm an anxious person, so it's easy... to write anxiety? xD

I hope you enjoyed it and if you did, um, pop me even one line xD coz I'm nervous xD

cheers and feel free to request:3

thank you


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