Songs

I just want you to know that I am sitting a thousand miles away, thinking about you. I want you to know that I am sitting on the top floor of a Ghent public library with only you on my mind. I want you to know that I am looking out into the horizon thick with church spires, basilicas, factory chimneys and tower blocks, thinking about you. I want you to know that the sky is blue and bright ful of joy, and all I can think is how lucky I was to share those years with you, and how sorry I am to have broken up our little family.

Every time I see something or meet people that fill me with happiness, my thoughts turn to you, and how much you would also enjoy meeting them. Every time I discover something beautiful on a walk or bicycle ride, I can imagine your approval and joy.

It is tragic how the passage of time begins to blind you to the qualities that repose themselves in the people you already know and love. How can knowledge be this blinding? It cannot be. Only ignorance can be that blinding, conceited knowledge that has turned foul with its own distress. Even pylon and ribbon of smoke every candy-coloured pipe, each plane tree admits a small sigh, that turns in the magic current of the music which floats about my ears like a carousel or musical box. My head is full of regret and sorrow. How beautiful you were and are, how open your heart was to admit me inside – I, who could only have been a quarter as beautiful as you.