Permenant and Pertinent Resi(st)dance

My dearest who doesn’t acknowledge his attachment to me said the place where he lives annoys him because people are stuck in the past with a sense of pride that prevents his desire for convenience to be lived out that resulted in him expressing wanting to move to China (how convenient, gee, I want to move to China now) and the fact that I’m from China has nothing to do with this I’m merely the information provider and useful in the sense that I know a bit about the place I was born in and with a gap of knowledge almost 20 years had to make up with a lot of prejudice and imagination ruminated memories strong emotions mostly resentment towards the one who breed me and fed me and demanded with unstoppable forces my unquestioned gratitude towards whom that deemed me useless and that perhaps is a strong knot in my attachment to my dearest who I don’t dare to call darling in the sense that he is like a traumatised cat who is afraid of being tied down and having his freedom space encroached and I’m living with the consequence of his past tragic love affair while trying really hard to prove my usefulness to him that leaves me on Saturday mornings staring into the abyss on a still unfamiliar balcony where we sat and enjoyed talk about things that intrigues him and endured silence after I expressed my hurt and explanation about the hurt being linked to the one who bred me and not to the one who is in front of me out of fear of being abandoned again by her by him and by him for the potentially fourth time and he said on the couch fool me once and I wonder if I’m really that dumb and desperate that the return to him again and again after he slightly wiggled his finger would never pull me out of this bubble that is pressing on my chest that makes breathing ever so slightly harder and tears ever so slightly fuller for the circumference of my eye balls and I said perhaps the people who stuck in the past in the city where he lives should all get a massive therapy so that they can finally move on from cash payment and I wonder if then the world bank would finally be happy and decide to produce some spare cash for us who permanently worry about the cutting off of cash flow that prevents us from loving each other fearlessly instead we have to tip toe words around each other breathing funny guessing anxiously but I do make space I do give space to you haven’t I already given you so so much space and I need to recite Gibran’s phrase let the love between us be like the vast ocean to not let my tears flow burst over the dam on that same balcony hearing him said I don’t know what to say except that I understand (no you don’t my dear) and however much effort affection understanding distraction I exercise on this matter he is a free kite that sometimes reflects some iridescent glistening light on my face that makes me so so happy and I love the way he squeezes my body when we cuddle and I love the way he asks with extreme caution if anything he said has antagonised me (what a word choice) and I wonder if anything everything happens is a word game between two timid souls that can’t see five feet beyond their faces and all I want is to be healed to be whole to not having to want to stuff my face in his chest and not having to want to have money to pay for therapy that heals me makes me whole and where is the magic healer for the world bank?