Darling

Darling,

You are half a stranger.
How does one fall in love with a stranger
Over three conversations
And one night when everything
Came together perfectly?

Your fillums,
Your love
For talking about yourself,
Your voice on the phone
As deep as when we spoke
In my room
Through the night,

How you go on
And on
About the same thing
How miserable you are
How bored you are
How desperate you sound
When you call me
(On those two nights)

It will pass
When life starts
For you again.

Will you forget me
Ignore me
Will I be an adult about it?
Will I push you away
From today
So you can
Never hurt me?

Will it be
A weekend love
Played out over the phone
Drawing on the memories
Of a perfect ordinary night?

I am falling in love with you.
It is a very uncool, uncouth
Thing to say
In the world of flinty singletons
Protecting armoured hearts.

I might hate you tomorrow,
As I already do a little
In anticipation
Of the pain
I am about to inflict on myself.

But now,
Deep down,
Loving you (what I know of you)
Feels perfect.

P.S.
Filmmakers are a sodden, self-obsessed lot.
They get depressed, they drink
I think you are a borderline alcoholic,
Or going that way with bold and sure steps.
You have no idea how to hold someone
So much smaller than you.
But we played very well, and very long
That night.
In that, we were a perfect match:
A size ten and a half.