01. Charlie

Okay. Don’t open them just yet. Just give me a second. Promise me you won’t peek.

Okay. Now, open your eyes. Happy birthday Charlie!

You open your eyes and that expression of ‘You shouldn’t have’ twists across your face as you see 30 little flames on top of a blueberry cheesecake, your favourite blueberry cheesecake from Glicks, in front of you. Your hands will go towards your mouth in that way they always do when you pretend to be surprised and you’ll stand up and throw your arms around me and squeeze me hard with your bony frame. ‘You’ you’ll say. ‘You are one of a kind and I love you. I don’t deserve this. It’s only a birthday.’ You’re always so humble like that Charlie.

You’ll lean over to blow out the candles and turn to me slyly and say ‘What shall I wish for?’ ‘I’m not supposed to tell you’ I’ll reply. ‘It’ll never come true if I know what it is.’
‘Birthday wishes never come true anyway’ will be your retort as you hunch over the table. You’ll be very still there for a moment as you think of all the wishes you’d wished that never came true until you’ll find the one that means the most to you. You’ll mutter it under your breath, lips moving very quietly before blowing out the candles and if I concentrate hard enough I may catch a word here or there. Love, hope, sex, money. Now that your older you may ask for something else. Something that just comes to you in the moment. Or maybe the years of your body and the years of your head are still out of sync and you’ll wish for a pony.

We’ll go out onto the balcony of my overpriced apartment and sip champagne and watch the city sparkle and talk about everything and nothing. We’ll just talk because the silence seems to amplify the space between us. ‘You never call me anymore Charlie.’ is what the space would say. ‘I’m just the obligation you feel you should keep because I know all your secrets and you know mine and now we’re getting older it seems like the right thing to do.’ Perhaps after talking of boys we used to know or the girls we used to hang out with you’ll light up a cigarette or, if your truly afraid of becoming of becoming a dull spinster, you’ll pull out a joint and we’ll get wasted listening to The Cure. Whatever happens you’ll leave and It maybe the last time and Charlie, let me tell you.

I’ll miss you.