sick of losing soulmates | gxg | dodie

f o u r

"Watch how a cold broken teen
will desperately lean
on a superglued human of proof"

"We're here!" Dodie said with a smile as she walked up to the black door, rummaging through her bag to find her keys. With a click, the door opened, and I followed her inside. I am pretty sure I made an audible gasp as I took in my surroundings.

Although not massive, her flat was wonderfully decorated with lots of coordinated trinkets and plants, it was clear a lot of thought had gone into the decoration. Compared to most flats owned by people in their twenties, this was like an art gallery.

I walked over to a shelf, looking at all of the trinkets, each with its own story to tell. I saw a photo of dodie with a few friends of hers, grinning ear to ear, and I could not help but to smile.

I drew my eyes away from the shelf, and turned around to dodie to see her watching me, happily.

"So I take it you like my flat then?" She asked, a jokey smile on her face, her eyebrows raised, as if it wasn't a statement but a question.

"Yes!" I replied, as excited as you could be at two o clock in the morning after an eventful night like that. "Everything is all so sweet, and coordinated, it's just so... you" I responded, and saw a slight blush paint her cheeks. I walked over to some small succulents, and I bent down to touch one, and heard footsteps approaching me.

"They're fake you know... I love plants, but I'm pretty sure everything I touch dies." She told me with a slight laugh.

"They're very realistic!" I offered, I wouldn't have guessed that they were fake unless I actually touched one.

I heard her walking away again, so turned around and followed her into the kitchen.

"Do you want anything?" She asked, turning around to look at me, "I'm just making myself some tea now if you would like some?"

I responded, telling her a tea would be lovely, hoping the warm drink would comfort me like it did on rainy days or after an argument, feeling like someone was hugging me from the inside out.

"How do you like your tea?" She called over her shoulder, picking up the boiling kettle and pouring the water into two white china mugs with delicate gold floral designs climbing around them.

"Just with some milk" I replied, watching her stir the mugs, adding a questionable amount of sugar in hers.

She walked over to the table I was sitting at slowly, face full of concentration, clearly trying very hard not to spill any on the way to my amusement, and, once she had placed them both on the table, she sat down opposite me, and looked up to meet my eyes.

I thanked her for the tea, and our conversation continued. About ten minutes later, we were both laughing so hard we couldn't breathe over something neither of us could remember. Once we had regained our composure, I noticed the black upright piano in the corner of the room, it's shiny cover begging to be opened. I thought back to our conversation earlier, about how she made music for a living.

"Dodie?" I asked hesitantly, causing her to put down the tea she was sipping, and look up. "It's is totally ok if you don't want to of course and, I mean, I know it's quite late, so maybe in the morning... but... would you possibly be able to play me some of your music?" I asked shyly, watching her intently to see her response. At first she looked slightly shocked, but then her expression softened.

"Of course!" She responded with a soft laugh at how awkward I was, and I was pretty sure that my cheeks had already gone red.

She got up and walked towards the piano, sitting on the seat, then shuffling it around to make sure the position was right. She gently placed her hands over the black and white keys, and with one last glance over her shoulder at me, she started to play.

The piece started with a piano introduction, and from the moment she started playing I could feel the emotion pouring out of even the simple piano tune, the feelings flooding into me before she had even opened her mouth. But then she started to sing:

I feel like a six out of ten
I gotta get up early tomorrow again

What goes on behind the words?
Is there pity for the plain girl?

Can you see the panic inside?
I'm making you uneasy, aren't I?

What goes on behind the words?
Is there pity for the plain girl?
I'll close my mouth, I won't say a word
A nod of pity for the plain girl.

I know that you don't want me here
I know that you don't want me here
I know that you don't want me here
I know that you don't want me here

Oh, I'll just call a taxi,
I gotta get up early tomorrow again.

Oh, I'll just call a taxi,
I gotta get up early tomorrow again.

What goes on behind the words?
Is there pity for the plain girl?
I'll close my mouth, I won't say a word
A nod of pity for the plain girl.

The moment she started singing, I was enthralled. Her voice was like silk, or the feeling of sitting curled up inside on a rainy day. I was so pulled into her singing, I wouldn't have been able to move if I wanted to, I just sat there, staring at her, amazed at the beauty of her voice, wondering how someone could be so talented but also be so down to earth, and fully relating to the lyrics of the song as well.

After she sung the last word, she turned around to see me.

"What did you think?" She said, slight concern knitting her brows, as if there was any way someone could have possibly disliked it.

"I-I- it" I tried to tell her, but I was speechless at how amazing it was.

"I loved it."
I finally managed to say, and I meant it from the bottom of my heart.