Alix, 16, South Wales.
To update us, maybe like Leo and Kate in Titanic, you can sprawl naked on my couch and I’ll sit with my Macbook open, typing away — occasionally looking up, tongue wedged between my teeth in focus — capturing your essence, your silhouette, your humour, your jawline. I’d paint us into Microsoft Word, everything you make me feel and think and then simply slap it up onto a blog where it will be consumed within minutes. Where no one will care about the complex nature of what I feel, beyond me — and maybe you?
Sometimes I wonder — is this too inward? Have I stopped looking outside, searching for the beauty of the world because I’m lost in you? I want to study you and nothing else. I want to research you like a historical event or a scientific anomaly. Who cares what aspect of quantum mechanics is being uncovered today — I want to know what you think about comic book movies. I want to capture the way your hands move. I want to decipher your voice. I have no power beyond expression, which of course, you now control.
Oh, I’ve gained so much because of you — but I have also lost, don’t you see? Throughout time and history and art and stories, the creator will always lose.