It still burns, just thinking about it. I feel it in my skin, a prick, a sudden gash of pain that go as quickly as it comes. Every now and then, something reminds me of you, a book or a detail in the wall. The most mundane things, and suddenly, I find myself staring at the past, your face all over.
And because words are my weapon, I think the best way to say goodbye and to let go of all things you is to write.
This is for all the times we dreamt of lazy Sundays together. When we won’t have to wake up early but stay tangled up in our sheets. You told me, someday, you’d make me breakfast with my favorites – eggs, pancakes and coffee. I giggle at the thought because you and the kitchen are two pairs not meant to be together. You insist though, you said you’d learn it, because perfect Sundays are meant for good breakfasts and all day in bed. I guess, we will never know how perfect Sundays are supposed to be.
Remember when you said we’d take a road trip? Leave all things behind for a month and just see where the ride takes us, you laughed as you said it. You showed me the map and you said it has been something you’ve wanted to do since you were a teenager. You’ve traced the road already and marked the date. You promised that one night, we’d stop the car and just lay somewhere to gaze the stars, and wish upon them. I smiled at the thought, how wonderful it would be to have you by my side with nothing but the stars as our company. I wonder, do you still have the map?
All those movies we watched, and TV shows we analyzed and everything geeky. We’d spent hours talking about something we saw and discuss either how much we loved or hated it. Those were simple times, when you’d laugh out loud over something I said and I’d shake my head pretending to dislike it. But I liked it, your laughter was a kind of music I never thought I’d miss. I try to watch some of those movies again but I can’t seem to finish them right now. Maybe someday I can quote our favorite lines once more.
When I told you I’ve always wanted to see the Northern lights, you told me we’d watch it together. That night, I slept imagining the two us, huddled closely together with our thick jackets, holding hands – our gloves setting our skin apart. But that’s fine, because in my picture, we kissed amidst a backdrop of colorful aurora borealis. I still plan to go to the North and experience that magic, but I guess I’ll always wonder how different it would be if you were by my side.
There are so many other times when we tried to create memories out of the future we will never have. We talked mindlessly, thinking that we’d be together till our last breath. And I still don’t understand, what changed. You, me, our dreams, everything except the future we will never have.
I don’t know how you are, because it hurts too much to keep up with you. Somewhere out there, you’re trying to search whatever it was that you couldn’t find with me, and I hope that eventually you’ll discover it. Maybe, someday, we’ll meet again. By then, we would have grown enough, and maybe, just maybe, we’ll breathe life to a love we once so cherished again.