Who was it?

Who was it who came between me and my life and made me kitschy, X asks me, was it you? But you’re right, he says, I should have seized the moment when the time was right and I was still young and malleable, I should have stepped into the world when I was still wide-eyed and it might have sunk in. I could have been wearing a suit now, he says, chairing a meeting, I could have a career and a house and enjoyable hobbies. I missed my chance, he says, when the timing was right, in those early wide-eyed years. I should have become an athlete when there was still time, he says, then it would have sunk in thoroughly and I wouldn’t have to carry you around everywhere. You showed up at exactly the wrong time, he says, perfect timing as always, was it you who barged into my life or me who let you in? What I know is that it was when I took up with you that I got kitschy, he tells me, that’s when the mist descended.


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