some days i’m on top of the world. and other days i watch pulp fiction and i cry because i can’t help but remember when we sat in the attic under a blanket drinking tea and watching pulp fiction and i was tired and cold and you kept me warm and kissed my head. 99 luft balloons plays and we dance on the table and everybody sings along and cheers and laughs. i haven’t seen you for twenty-one days and it is halloween and you come to the door in a dress and more make-up than me but i kiss you anyway and i get lipstick stains on my mouth. i’m wearing your jacket and we are sat by the canal and it is cold and you blow smoke in my face and laugh. i’m sitting on the edge of a roof above a small town and you sit next to me and hold my waist and kiss my cheek. it is five in the morning and we are still drunk and we sit in my garden naked and smoke my last cigarette. i’m too weak to move and you help me to the kitchen and make me beans on toast and hold me tight to stop me shaking. i fall asleep on you during every film we try to watch. i take naked polaroids of you and run upstairs to show rosie. we drink vodka all day long and you sneak me into your house to stay the night and we wake your mum anyway. we get high by the canal with your friends and i sit on your lap and you pass the spliff. you lie in bed and i get dressed and you watch me in the strangest way. you first kiss me on my roof and i am too drunk to remember.