Peis Je Nog Aan Mie

En azo zitte ‘k ier allene.
En azo leve ‘k were ‘s nachts.
En azo gaat ‘t leven verder,
dan da’ w’ widder altid hadd’n gedacht.

It was the perfect crime: No strings attached, no responsibilities. The perfect job as a boy toy, and for a while, it worked remarkably well. We talked, we screwed, and we did have a little something special but nothing that got into the way of a clean break, even if it happened while you were still here.

I rather enjoyed being your secret. Even the idea that you kept us hidden out of shame didn’t bother me, quite the contrary. It only emphasized that despite your image at work, despite your upbringing or even shame, there was a small part that couldn’t resist. It gave every minute a mischievous flavor. There was a gap between us in pretty much every way: Education, language, lifestyle, even our most intimate beliefs differed. To be able to circumvent them like a thief in the night and crawl into bed with you in the dark, was a headrush in itself.

‘t Was hier vroeger beter.
’t Was hier veel eerder klaar.
’t Was hier alles ip z’n plekke.
’t Was hier, maar ik wete nie’ meer juste waar.

And then you moved in, and before we knew it we had a relationship. I knew I’d be sorry sooner or later, it was a decision I would have advised against if it were anyone else. I expected our problems much sooner though; like you said, we were a bad couple. The first week I was waiting for one of us to lose his patience with the other, and a small part of me hoped it would be me. But even if I would have tried, I failed to find you annoying.

Ge zijt uw kleers nie’ komen halen
en uw stemme doolt hier rond.
In da huis hier vul verhalen
ligg’n uw boeken uitgelezen ip de grond.

The secret was out and we made no excuses, despite the hurtful comments. I never knew what a liberating feeling it could be, to know that your relationship is doomed. It fit my agenda: I would take what I could, gratefully, greedily, until it ran dry. With no regrets- hopefully.
We knew who we’d be living with, but the chemistry came as a surprise. Frankly, I wasn’t expecting to like you so much. I had no idea that the things you contributed to the house were things I appreciated immensely.

W’ én d’r al vele van gekregen
en we gaan der nog van én.
Wuk doet da meisk’ ier in min kamer?
Hoe geraak ek buit’n en hoe kwam zij hier binn’n?

_MG_0203I made jokes about your motherly nature, I carved my name in your beloved unwashed teacup, I grumbled when ordered to clean up yet again. Things I did almost out of habit, but never before did I feel so positively about it. I didn’t know how much I craved someone who would cook and wash for me, who made my house a home to go to. After I gave you such an elaborate speech about role patterns, I found myself so comfortable in a relationship that was based on them unlike any that I had before.

‘k Ga min huis in orde brengen
nu da’k moe’ thuisbluven met min hand’n.
’k Ga uw emails ut gaan printen,
da gaa’ stukken beter voe ze te verbrand’n.

We had differences, inevitably, since we ourselves differ so strongly. I was stubborn and you were illogical, you were unreasonable while I seemed careless. Discussions that I thought were finished, lingered and bothered you for weeks. I guess I’m sorry, I wish I could have convinced you without hurting you. Typical, I guess.
Our problems were easily bearable because they were of a temporary nature. If we disagreed, we could just drop it and move on, our relationship would probably be over by the time it caught up on us. The brevity of our affair allowed it to flourish.

Ge weet even goed da’ we beter hadd’n kunn’n weten.
Wuk hadd’n we gepeisd? Wuk a’ j’ gepeisd?
We zagen nen berg maar ‘t was nen put da’ we delfden.
As ‘t trots of es ‘t lot of es ‘t miskien God zelve die tegen ons pleit?

“An artist always ends his show leaving the audience wanting more,” I told you. And added, “It’s just painful that we are both audience members in this case.” We split in the peak of our being together and that adds to the beauty, but at the same time hurts like a bitch. Coming home feels empty now, as I relive you coming to beg for another hug, comforting me, encouraging me, noticing the things that I find important but no-one else seems to. God I miss you so much, it changes the color of the sky.
In a way I am grateful for that pain, knowing I have something to miss. I am grateful for you, your endless patience with me, your ceaseless talking, you washing my hair, your tea, your grooming, your science, your ass.
Thank you for making me miss all of you. I will never forget you or the things you taught me.

Ik wete nie’ goe’ hoeveel nacht’n dat ‘t al deurt
maar ik telle de dagen en ‘k vrage mie af aan wuk da j’ gie nu peist.
Wuk a’ j’ gepeisd?
’k E je zuster gezien en z’ herkende mie nog,
volgens zie peis je nog aan mie.

Peis je nog aan mie,

Peis je nog aan mie?

-Het Zesde Metaal, Peis Je Nog Aan Mie

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2 responses

  1. Coarse translation of the quoted song:

    And so, I sit alone.
    Ans so, I live at night again.
    And so, life goes on
    further than we had ever expected.

    It used to be better.
    It used to become bright much sooner.
    It used to be in order.
    It used to be here, but I can’t recall where.

    You didn’t come to pick up your clothes
    and your voice wanders here.
    In this house of stories
    your books lie read on the floor.

    We got plenty of hardship
    and we’ll get a whole lot more.
    What is this girl doing in my room?
    How do I get out, how did she get in?

    I’m going to fix my house
    now that I have to stay home with my hands.
    I’m going to print out your emails,
    to make it easier to burn them.

    You know we should have known better.
    What were we thinking? What were you thinking?
    We saw a mountain but it was a hole we delved.
    Was is pride, was it fate or was it God himself speaking against us?

    I don’t know how many nights this has gone on
    but I’m counting the days and I wonder what you’re thinking.
    What were you thinking?
    I saw your sister and she still recognized me,
    she says you still think of me.

    Think of me,

    Do you still think of me?

    8 June 2014 at 18:02

  2. Debbie

    Beautifully written Maarten, I’m sure she thinks of you as well. You guys are awesome :) stay strong, greets from your sneaky blog reader

    15 June 2014 at 00:15

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