Relief

She turned around and saw a familiar figure walking towards her. She was still mid-song in her solo karaoke session, and it took her a while to register the person. Her heart stopped for a beat and started again at double time. A slow, wide smile spread on her now silent mouth.

His smile and walk seemed to brighten the dusky tones of the sky. His eyes were twinkling. It felt like not even a day had passed. But then again, it felt like far too much time had flown past whilst she waited for this moment. She went closer to meet him, and stopped just short of bumping into and hugging him. He was looking down at her face. She looked at his, and then slowly looked all the way down. She inhaled his scent. She had forgotten how intoxicating it was, being near him. She looked back at his face. That smile, that easy smile. How could she have forgotten that?

They went hand in hand, till they found a space to be themselves. She marvelled at his beauty, his scent now stronger than ever. She felt at home in his arms and in the kisses he rained upon her. She held him till she had drunk in all the memory of him.

Sitting side by side, she was startled by how much she had missed his touch. He obliged by allowing her a little more time.

Exchanging goodbyes seemed unreal this time. The moment had ended much too soon. Are we really doing this again?

Watching him go away this time made her ache in places she didn't know existed within her. Please don't, please don't go away? Please, please just turn around and stay? Stay with me!

Her silent prayers went unheard, as he waved a final farewell.

Please, God, please let's put this dream on loop?

The skies rumbled in response, and she felt a few raindrops tap her head.

She smiled. It wasn't the end of this story. This time she was sure of it.

One of None

She looked at the time on her phone yet again. Not even a minute had passed. But it was hours since she had sent out a post.

Dawn was approaching fast, it seemed to her, and no one had given any reaction to what she supposed would be a very reactable news.

Yet no one was saying a word.

Where is everyone?

Never had she felt more alone, in that moment. The blissfully asleep figure sharing her bed just snored in agreement to her thoughts.

She thought about what she'd read that day, and what made her write the post in the first place. Her straying mind allowed her a few minutes of calm that was going to be disturbed all over again once she reached the end of her thought process. It was inevitable. It boiled down to the same question. Over and over again. There really was no answer.

Where is everyone?

How did this not work when it was she who did the talking? Had she not put in her two pence of opinionated monologues for everyone else's?

It then struck her. She felt like a burden was both placed on and lifted off her shoulders. She should have felt liberated, but the realization made her feel trapped.

Then came the crashing sadness that settled in like it was home. There was only one comfort and remedy to this. But the solutions seemed so far out of her reach. So far that it probably was more anger and stubbornness rather than desperation that held on to what she called self-respect. It only made her feel madder. And worse.

If only someone knew intuitively what must be done. But, it seemed to her loneliness was her only friend. This time, she really wanted to just know.

Where is everyone?

As You Sleep Tonight...

Dream of the stars we saw together that night. Dream of the song we crooned till the light.

Dream of the taste of wine on our lips. Dream of every moment we kissed.

Dream of the time when we had no choice but to stay. Dream of the time when we chose not to leave anyway.

Dream the dreams you used to dream every minute. Dream that they were only clouds waiting to reform again.

Dream of how this never would have struck you so deep. Dream of all the times you wished you could keep.

Dream that these dreams have a reason to be,
Above all, sweetheart,
Dream of the reason we are you and me.

Obsessive Crisis

Loathing. Intense loathing filled the features of her face. Oh, how it consumed her.

A picture was all it took. A word was all that was needed. A fire began that wouldn't die. She wished she was numb again.

Her eyes kept searching for the glimmer of hope that eluded her in that picture. Bleak as it was, she knew deep within her that she wasn't giving up.

Maybe it said a lot more about him than he wanted to let on. Maybe she could see the evidence of his uncertainty. She wanted him happy, yes. But not this way. This was cruel. This was unjust. Was he really happy if he had resorted to this? Was he hoping that she'd react? She reacted, alright. Just not the way anyone in her place should have reacted. Acceptance had always been her strength.

But this acceptance was failing her today. Where was her solace when she needed it the most?

Reason had been her friend. Still was. She just couldn't see Her now. This was no time for Reason. She needed some time alone. She needed to scream it all out. Reason could visit her some other day. Just not today.

He might have as well shoved a knife in her side and twisted it, for all that was worth. She doubted it was pain that she felt. No. This wasn't pain. This was anger. This was loathing. Yes, loathing again. She hated his very nerve. Nothing she had done warranted this. Nothing at all. She just wasn't capable of being that mean.

But he had done it. There was no going back from this. Is this who he was now? Is this what he had become? Or was he always like this? I'm not the nice guy you think I am. Did he say those words with this in mind? Did he really believe it? Did she believe those words now? No. It wasn't possible. No one changes that soon and that much, could they?

She wasn't sure anymore. She was tired of hating. She wanted to cry, but this wasn't worthy enough to cry over. Why did she feel so upset? She had forgotten. Then her eyes found the picture once more. Rewind, pause, play. Repeat. And then it began all over again.

Loathing.

Writing Me Off

"You, what?"

Maybe I didn't hear it correctly. Maybe I didn't want to. Maybe I was scared to accept that the moment I had been dreading all this while had finally arrived.

"Of course, you're joking. You have to be."
"But, I'm not."

This wasn't happening. Not to me. These things didn't happen to people like me, did they?

"So, we good?"
Ridiculous stare.
"What, are you drunk on your own stupidity?"
"So, we're not good?"
I turn my head to look away.

In the distance I can see the car coming closer towards us and turning at the corner. Funny how anything else will consume my attention now.

"You've got to say something sometime, you know."
I glance at him as he begins to speak, but look away again.
"You really won't say anything?"

I see the car reappear, carefully backing out of the lane. I can't help but think of the street dog I saw the other day with the tiny toad. Ribbid. Step back. Ribbid ribbid. More walking backwards.

"You know I'm not going to wait forever, don't you?"
I look at him with a deadpan expression on my face. Five seconds. Ten. Maybe even an hour or two, I don't remember. I slowly get up, lean forward, kiss his cheek and linger there for a couple of seconds more than acceptable.

Then, I turn to walk away from the only chance at happiness I'd ever known. Maybe I imagined him calling out my name, begging me to stop. I know I would have ignored him anyhow. I think.

I look up at the sky, while I plug in my earphones. Even the shades of orange seemed mellow that evening.
"...don't forget me, I beg..." Oh, shut up, of course I will. You made sure of that didn't you?
You made sure of that, didn't you?

My hair whipped out to the front and lashed against my face along with the sudden gust of wind. It seems, perhaps, that I needed only that momentary blindness. Images were flitting across my mind in quick succession. Not unlike the time when I'd described them so well to him. Images. I had none to hold on to.

For God's sake.

Frantically, I brushed off the devious hair from my eyes. As I opened them to see clearly again, I saw only a stark blackness in the midst of the riot of colours dancing in front of me. Shutting my eyes, I shake my head a little. I open them again. This time, it was all black.

The Art of Loving Right

To the man who made me feel like I was worth every second of his time with me

Glancing at the bottle of Sula left upon her bedside next to the glass vase of white and pink lilies, she knew her life was far from being empty. She looked to the other side of her bed, and saw that the rumpled sheets definitely were, though. Empty. Just like the clear glass cups on the night stand there. Remnants of last night's toast to happiness lay nestled at the bottom of the cups, almost dried to the surface. The taste of the delicious wine could still be felt on her lips. She imagined they would be stained purple and red now.

She strained her ears to listen for any sounds in the rest of the house. None at all came to her. With a dejected sigh, she let her head fall back to the pillow, and stared at the ceiling.

Look at that, the fan's off-centre!

She remembered her drunken surprise from another night which had amused him so much. His chuckling had grown more intense, as she turned to look at him in indignation. He had responded by covering her mouth with his, taking her to a sweet momentary paradise.

Last night, he didn't let her babble a lot. There was no time for that. They both knew it would be the last time ever. There was none to waste. Or so it had felt.

She remembered being nestled in his arms afterwards, not caring that he was still covered with a sheet of sweat. The scent of him mingled with hers was comfort beyond comprehension. His warm embrace made her feel safe like a baby with its mother. She had buried her head in his shoulders, finding that nook reserved for her alone. Not anymore.

Desperately trying to ignore the tears that formed in her eyes, she now got up from her bed and walked away and out of the room. She didn't want to, but her eyes kept scanning for signs that he was still there. The smells from the kitchen were missing this morning. I make the best coffee in the world! She had teased him about that every single time he whisked his coffee and sugar into a smooth paste. She would never have coffee made by another, now. It didn't feel right. Perhaps, even tea, as she recalled another occasion where he had made tea and coffee in succession for twelve of their friends.

Not willing to break tradition, she sipped on a glass of cold water, shivering just a little bit. He would have come to her, hugging her from behind, making sure she never did shiver. There would probably be a few light kisses on the back of her neck too, before he settled to rest against her for a few minutes. She would pull his arms tighter around her, and he would oblige. Today, her thick cardigan felt inadequate for the job.

She looked at the time, and decided that she needed to get out of the house. One more moment spent in here would probably see her break down.

On the other hand, there was not a place she could go to now, she had memories of him in every place she'd been to in this city. With that, she let loose the flow of tears that she had willed herself to not cry.

Don't forget me, that's all I ask of you.

She didn't think she could, for one moment, anyway.

Glitter and Gold

The stars are calling out to me. They wink at me, promising me new lands and stories. They know I want to see them all. They tease me, because they know I can't.

The stars, they seem so lovely. They shine bright enough to mesmerize me, then dim themselves right before I can blink.

They seem so mysterious; are they holding back more secrets than I should want to know? They smile at me indulgently; maybe the hushed whispers are just my imagination.

The stars, they make me want to touch them. They don't tell me that I will burn if I do. They want me to burn.

They don't let me look away, the stars. There's always a newer one shining - just for me, it seems.

The stars, I keep believing they're my friends. I am never told they never were. They're my constant companions. I do not know any better.

The stars are my destiny, they tell me. I'm just a speck of dust, waiting to become what I can never be. What I should never be. They never tell me this.

The stars. They're so pretty with the moon and light. And I will never know their truth.