The Vandal and I, we went for a walk and sometimes it's nice be able to switch off and walk in silence. It's nice and nice feels like the worst adjective but it is nice and these is nothing wrong with nice. He cooks, he cleans, he loves me and it's all so nice it's almost sickening.
I tell him not to tell me he loves me, because I don't any of this ruined by a reminder that this might not last. On the Friday when he goes home, he asks to take a screenprint and I let him. He leaves me and I want to cry for no other reason than I'm aware that these things don't last forever and my track record isn't brilliant. I try to be secretive but deep down I think he knows. There's a future and a history hanging out side by side and that's when I realise I didn't put the lens cap back on my camera.