It was my choice to leave.. but you knew I'd be back..
When it was your time to leave.. I thought you'd be back..
And I'm still waiting..
“Help”
8 years ago
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Promising tomorrow..
She fiddled with her earrings with trembling fingers, as he sat across the room staring at her. She could feel his dark eyes boring into her soul, seeking her darkest secrets. She moved her hand slowly from her ear to her now cold cup of tea, her long slender fingers fidgeting with the once white china. What did he want? She wondered, or did he even want anything? Maybe she was imagining things; maybe he wasn’t staring at her. She shook her head absentmindedly; no, she wasn’t imagining, she can’t possibly be imagining those eyes burning into her own. She took a deep breath and tried to focus on the book in front of her.
He stood up abruptly, pulling his eyes away from hers slowly, taking in her trembling hands and the confused look in her big, brown eyes. He walked deliberately close to her, breathing in her faint, flowery scent and sighed as he swiftly left the room. Tomorrow, he promised himself, tomorrow he will have the courage to tell her that he knows, that he understands her pain and that one day, he will make it better.
He stood up abruptly, pulling his eyes away from hers slowly, taking in her trembling hands and the confused look in her big, brown eyes. He walked deliberately close to her, breathing in her faint, flowery scent and sighed as he swiftly left the room. Tomorrow, he promised himself, tomorrow he will have the courage to tell her that he knows, that he understands her pain and that one day, he will make it better.
Good night..
Remember when.. life was you and me.. and our biggest regret was sleeping without saying good night..
New York..
Missed writing.. and I guess the New York skyline begs you to be creative :) hope all's good with everyone..
****
Something about the cold brings me back to you.
Different city, different time, but same icy wind blowing my hair away in different directions, threatening to take me off the ground. You were never there with me physically, only in my head, but somehow the connection between you and the cold, still exists. Maybe because I ran away from you, to the cold. Or maybe because the heat had too much of us.
Today I’m in a new city, trying to find a new me, but somehow I still see us in every corner.
****
Something about the cold brings me back to you.
Different city, different time, but same icy wind blowing my hair away in different directions, threatening to take me off the ground. You were never there with me physically, only in my head, but somehow the connection between you and the cold, still exists. Maybe because I ran away from you, to the cold. Or maybe because the heat had too much of us.
Today I’m in a new city, trying to find a new me, but somehow I still see us in every corner.
Out..
I’m tired. A word I keep repeating to myself over and over again, but tired of what?
Today I emptied my long neglected drawers, and dusted the books you once handed over to me, each signed with your name, each carrying your sweet words, the words that I, in my bitterness have torn away years ago.
I sat on my bed and flipped through my memories of you, each line brought back something; a touch of your fingers, a good morning whisper, I closed my eyes and I almost felt it. I traced my fingers on the smooth pages, hoping to find the faint imprint of your writing.
I realized a few years ago that I was tired, tired of waiting for you. I cried and rebelled, until it broke everything inside me, but I somehow managed to salvage some parts and started waiting – again, for someone, like you who will be able to fix what I couldn’t.
I realize now that this person should be me; I shouldn’t be waiting – I should be fixing – but until I can find the strength to do so, I will remain to be tired, my words will remain hollow and meaningless, so I will say good bye until then.
Thank you for being wonderful readers, please do feel free to email me on diary.of.m@gmail.com at any time.
Today I emptied my long neglected drawers, and dusted the books you once handed over to me, each signed with your name, each carrying your sweet words, the words that I, in my bitterness have torn away years ago.
I sat on my bed and flipped through my memories of you, each line brought back something; a touch of your fingers, a good morning whisper, I closed my eyes and I almost felt it. I traced my fingers on the smooth pages, hoping to find the faint imprint of your writing.
I realized a few years ago that I was tired, tired of waiting for you. I cried and rebelled, until it broke everything inside me, but I somehow managed to salvage some parts and started waiting – again, for someone, like you who will be able to fix what I couldn’t.
I realize now that this person should be me; I shouldn’t be waiting – I should be fixing – but until I can find the strength to do so, I will remain to be tired, my words will remain hollow and meaningless, so I will say good bye until then.
Thank you for being wonderful readers, please do feel free to email me on diary.of.m@gmail.com at any time.
