after she hung up the phone, she sat there for a long time listening to the sound of silence. it is such a passively piercing sound.
there're thousands of thoughts and feelings running thru her mind and body. on many levels shes angry. but on the most basic level, and the one closest to her heart, she is wistful. wistful over everything that has transpired. and wistful over what could have been.
she remembers exactly how she felt of that moment, that moment where she tried to shut off on the other end and the minutes leading up to that moment. that sense of estrangement, that coldness from within that was scratching its way out of her stomach and into her mouth. the most important things become forgotten and shoveled beneath layer after layer, mound after mound of flimsy defenses and constant explanation. oh and that self-righteous pride!
where was she trying to get at. eventually nothing complements each other, nothing feels perfect; it’s always either or, compromise, win some lose some. we give in all at the wrong times, and so we collapse together, recklessly and without any tenderness.
****
sleeps didnt comfort her. she feels a lot of things. for a few fleeting moment, she was scared - she couldnt remember how she felt when they were holding hands, how he looks like. where they were. she ran through the postcards, the heart-shape pebble, trying to grasp for that one mental picture of them, of him. but whats left was just this blank. spot. vacuum. thing in her head. is this what it is. moving on? is this what it is. forgetting.
she had herself watching her favourite person on youtube, she thought that could help to ease that edginess nagging feelings in her. theres the scene, the eyes gazing, the morning after, the hand holding - it is a scene that is exhuming a lot of forgotten feelings from within her.
how could she possibly forget how he looks like. he's supposed to be always here. omnipresent. never leaving. what was she thinking?! there were all those laughs and all those nights - those heart-skipping exchanges of words with kisses and space invading. making fun. giggles.
she closed her eyes and suddenly she sees him, his face, his pink blunt shirt, his smile, that teasing grin. she remembers how her heart skipped when she looked into his eyes. how she giggled. and how he laughed.
****
i miss you.
