Eindhoven Station 1AM

You crossed my mind today as made my afternoon coffee. 

I remembered those times you insisted we meet in the middle of the night.
You’d wait for me at Eindhoven station in the freezing cold and we’d hug for a good five minutes before heading to your apartment.
We’d make out on your couch and when we took things to the bedroom all you ever wanted to do was to embrace me.
You didn’t want my body, you just wanted to feel me close to you.

By the time the sun woke up from its slumber we’d be in a fight and suddenly I’d hate myself for coming.
I never knew how to please your ever-changing moods, so I fought you instead.
We played a game of push and pull and we’d break our own rules.

We used our words to cut each other apart like butcher's on a Sunday.    
You were emotionally unavailable, just like I’ve always liked my men. 

I happened to be proud and ambitious, the kind of pride you wished you possessed. 

I don’t think I’ve ever participated in anything as toxic.  

Tell me G, who feels these things and deems them as normal? 

Remember when I moved to Madrid?
You called and asked me to be yours. You couldn’t stand the thought of us together, but you couldn’t imagine us ever being apart.
I felt inclinded to explain to you how love works. We could never love each other, because we loved ourselves too much.
You disagreed with me as usual and claimed you had a revelation that had opened your eyes to an "us" you had never seen before.
Summers on the terrace, weekends in bed together and nights of never ending fun.
Love would follow - you whispered on the other line.
I told you we’d never work out and that was the end of that conversation. 

But as I was making coffee this afternoon, I couldn’t help but wonder what would have happened if I had jumped on the airplane of your dreams.
Would we have reached the sky?

As I look back I realise that you were just a little boy at heart who you wanted desperately to accept who you were. 

And I'm sorry if my pride never allowed me to be there for you.