It’s a little longer than four months now which is way beyond our average two week strike limit to reconcile. Your thoughts are all that I have, scattered like rosebuds in my mind.
The first snow of winter must have fallen by now but you’re not here to tell me now, I wish you haven’t fallen and hurt your crown. The chill has started to creep on my side of town. I’ve severed all connections: no phone, even less social media, it’s like I’m not around. My purple has gone too scarce in my redundant belongings; replaced by blue, your hue.
The clouds finally rained tonight. They must have felt for me. When I whisper to the moon every night ever so silently. ‘Tis the season – so they say, a time for happiness and joy. But let’s not forget of you and I for we were made out of time.
Time after time.
My nephew turned one, my brothers flew away. The responsibility is less now but the loneliness stays the same. The page stays empty it’s been more than ninety days. The words refuse to flow – I sort of loathe the writer’s glow. Singing my heart loud and wearing it on my sleeve, writing about my feelings drove you away from me.
These words speak to me. The ones you and I say. They remind me that the matters of the heart aren’t easy to fade away. But how can I let you know how I feel? When you’re so easy to walk away while I’m just standing at the fray. I’ve lost my phone, my will to search when you’re so adamant to go. My midnight blue sweater smells of your perfume, I wear it every night so I could be closer to you.
I bet you’re happy out there and I pray that you stay that way. And if you really missed me all this time, I would have heard you say. But even if I want you to call me by your name, you’ve changed the locks on your door, my dear. I’m not allowed to stay.
But they won’t leave – the memories of you and I. I can’t erase your smile, your laughter, the endless winter sky. They won’t go, I don’t want them to, they are all that I have left of you. A few seconds of memories: the wisp of breath escaping on a cold night, your cologne on my shirt, your hand in mine – playback in rewind.
And then I say to myself, “What’s the use? Why write it all out?” Maybe that’s just an excuse to finally accept the real without a shout.
It’s December now, and you’re not here. My coffee is turning cold. My Uber has unspent credit, I got no where to go. Except the pictures, they adorn my desk, etched onto my mind. They’re all that I’ve got to see and smile hoping that you’re smiling too.
I keep telling mom stories about the time you and I spent in the reverie. But it breaks my heart that the time has passed and the moments didn’t stay to last. Every now and then, when my sister calls, she asks about you and your parents and all. My brother brings out your name when we plan a road trip uphill. I smile and I nod and I hold the tears from a spill. I check the weather for you, it’s -9 degrees now and way pas sunset but the sun rose in your eyes at 8:15 and set on your rosy cheeks by 4:27.
What can I say now? We don’t talk anymore. But I want to… I really do. I daresay, I really miss you. But it’s not my place anymore. ‘Boundaries’ I remind myself. For it is not true love if you refuse to accept that the other person is happy without the necessity of you to exist.
‘I’m sorry. It is the way. But you have to let it go,’ my heart whispers and my head complies. ‘Everybody deserves a shot at happiness. Perhaps, one day… You never know!’
‘It’s not happening. There’s no chance anymore.’ My eyes now scarlet voice the truth in a parley. ‘You were told that you needed to go. Because you cause him pain and everything is a reminder to that. Do not be selfish love, dwell in those memories – but do not approach the sun lest you seek for the day light to flee.’
My ramblings don’t make sense at all so I lay my head to rest. My blue sweater is warm enough, so close your eyes love, don’t fret. I swear I can hear your heartbeat next to mine, I hope forever it stays. Where the distance doesn’t grow larger than our arms. We’ll call it our home, together we belong.