After a long time, I woke up to your voice today. On some nights, it was your lullaby that soothed the ache in my weary bones, sending me off into a dreamless oblivion. On some nights, I stayed up, listening to you sing till dawn broke the trance. I would love to lie in bed, all day, with a book. And you – watching you trace your name on my naked palms. I would love to take your photos, when twilight painted the sky with the hues of orange.
You’ve always looked the most beautiful in the warm glow of the receding daylight. I wish I could paint, fill my canvases with you. I hadn’t seen you in so long, and smelled your earthy musk, that I had almost forgotten how it always affected me with a vague sadness – for all the nights and the lonely afternoons when I sought your respite; for all that I lost, and all that was never really mine.
I’m happy – happier now, than I’ve been in a long time. Without you. In retrospect, I haven’t really thought about you at all.
(Except for those days when I forget to skip our song in my playlist)
I woke up to your voice, thunderous today – angry, like the sound of a thousand waves crashing against the shore, a steady rhythm of abatement and crescendo. It’s been an eternity, and maybe…
You need to leave.
Because, your brand of sadness is a drug and I’m not strong enough.
You need to leave because I’ve always loved you too much.