Fantasy and Reality.

 
We sit on the table, the three of us, laughing and making up stories of our future...

"When we have our baby then we will have a common tattoo" he says..."right here"

She joins her arm to his, to show where the imaginary tattoo will be.

I can not look at them...the fantasy is too much...

Later, we are alone, just the two of us...

"Do you want to have more children?" I ask

"No" she says

"But yesterday, you know all that talk with the tattoo and so on..." I say

"Yeah but all that is just fantasy" she replies

"But how do you know when its serious if its always all fun and...games? I mean enjoy the games, the mind games, going on the fantasy and so on but sometimes I feel I have to make sure it is just fantasy"

"Well, that is very easy" She takes a piece of paper and draws a line dividing into two. Everything I can see...is in reality...everything that exists at the moment..." she writes reality on that half of the paper. "And everything that does not exist...including the imaginary baby...all that is on this side...its all fantasy"

"Ah, I understand...well I get scared sometimes...I hate empty promises, you know, all those unfulfilled shit...in the end it was just fantasy"

We look at each other and between us the air is heavy with the years of unfulfilled shit...the beach in New York, the swimming pool, the children, the villa, the country house...

"Well, I better get back to work then" she says, grabbing her keys.

I sit where I am.

I am here.

I am here.

I did not abandon my blog.

I was in Nigeria all summer. Lagos was the usual. Alcohol and music. Friends, grilled fish and suya spice. .

Warri was love and happiness.

Love, love, love.

There were births, deaths, life.

Now I sit here in my favourite cafe, listening to Colombian music and feeling really good. I have been writing but just not here.

I thought I would be able to write about many of my experiences this summer in Nigeria but right now, my mind just wants to rest. I'll be back.