"I loved your poem"..
"It's an old one, you know. You left the hall when you heard it for the first time"
"I know, I was a different person back then"
"And now? What are you now?"
"Now I'm not a person, technically speaking. I'm just...."
"... a figment of my imagination, I know I know but do we really have to use that dramatic sentence every time I'm missing you?" I felt annoyed at him intentionally walking through a pole on the side walk. It's like he couldn't help teasing me even in my imaginations. He just HAD to point out the realities.
"Why did you leave the hall though?" I asked him.
"I don't know. It became too much for me I guess. Made me a really bad person in my own eyes I guess?" He tried remembering.
"Also, it wasn't as much about me being portrayed bad as it was about the way you ended it, I knew you were trying to reassure yourself that you will keep going on without me. It just broke me" He cried with pain. I tried to remember my own words and a part of me wished I had never written those words. A part of me wished I had never poured my grief into words. It was our 12th or 13th serious break up I guess, I can't remember now, it's been so many years since I wrote that poem.
"Why did you keep coming back to me? Why do you love me so much?" He asked me an unusual question, he never asks such things.
"It was the perfect sync that I felt with you, the harmony, the frequency tuning.. Like my soul is connected to you. May be people call that understanding, the feeling when my text with a smiley face tells you of my upcoming depression when I myself am not aware of it" I tried putting it into words, there was much more that we exchanged simply by the way light fell on our eyes and our faces though. I knew he understood that it is exactly this type of understanding I was talking about.
"Why do you love me?" I asked the type of question I usually keep asking him.
"Because I'm a loving person by nature", he gave me another variation of his answers, he must have given me over a hundred of those over past eight years. I used to get annoyed in the early years I remember.
"I love your annoying answers", I told him, "But .. they are still annoying", I wanted more than just an annoying answer this time so I continued, "Are you? Loving by nature?"
"Am I not?" He asked.
"Do you love everyone?" I kept pressing.
"No, the only one I ever loved is You", he looked into my eyes. Some wounds inside me healed, some became raw again.
"Then why do you leave? Why do you leave every time?" I
cried.
"Does it matter?" He pointed to the building at left, we had reach home... I .. had reached my building. I looked at him, he started floating through the cars on my right, reached the other end and faded away into the walls of bakery on the opposite side of the road.
"It's an old one, you know. You left the hall when you heard it for the first time"
"I know, I was a different person back then"
"And now? What are you now?"
"Now I'm not a person, technically speaking. I'm just...."
"... a figment of my imagination, I know I know but do we really have to use that dramatic sentence every time I'm missing you?" I felt annoyed at him intentionally walking through a pole on the side walk. It's like he couldn't help teasing me even in my imaginations. He just HAD to point out the realities.
"Why did you leave the hall though?" I asked him.
"I don't know. It became too much for me I guess. Made me a really bad person in my own eyes I guess?" He tried remembering.
"Also, it wasn't as much about me being portrayed bad as it was about the way you ended it, I knew you were trying to reassure yourself that you will keep going on without me. It just broke me" He cried with pain. I tried to remember my own words and a part of me wished I had never written those words. A part of me wished I had never poured my grief into words. It was our 12th or 13th serious break up I guess, I can't remember now, it's been so many years since I wrote that poem.
"Why did you keep coming back to me? Why do you love me so much?" He asked me an unusual question, he never asks such things.
"It was the perfect sync that I felt with you, the harmony, the frequency tuning.. Like my soul is connected to you. May be people call that understanding, the feeling when my text with a smiley face tells you of my upcoming depression when I myself am not aware of it" I tried putting it into words, there was much more that we exchanged simply by the way light fell on our eyes and our faces though. I knew he understood that it is exactly this type of understanding I was talking about.
"Why do you love me?" I asked the type of question I usually keep asking him.
"Because I'm a loving person by nature", he gave me another variation of his answers, he must have given me over a hundred of those over past eight years. I used to get annoyed in the early years I remember.
"I love your annoying answers", I told him, "But .. they are still annoying", I wanted more than just an annoying answer this time so I continued, "Are you? Loving by nature?"
"Am I not?" He asked.
"Do you love everyone?" I kept pressing.
"No, the only one I ever loved is You", he looked into my eyes. Some wounds inside me healed, some became raw again.
"Then why do you leave? Why do you leave every time?" I
cried.
"Does it matter?" He pointed to the building at left, we had reach home... I .. had reached my building. I looked at him, he started floating through the cars on my right, reached the other end and faded away into the walls of bakery on the opposite side of the road.
This reminded me so much of moaning Myrtle. </3
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