Days turn into weeks, and weeks turn into months. Longing for something desperately magically transforms the dawn of time into what seems like a snail crawling almost too nonchalant. Biting nails, pursing lips, have become such familiarities of action.
It was two weeks ago when he left, two weeks that now felt like two long decades. Exaggeration takes the form of sanity in longing, she took another sip from her glass of wine, in hope that this last linger of bitter aftertaste and strong aroma of it would turn her into a blasé, unconcerned soul, forgetting all realms of agony every bones of her body is screaming of from longing.
It’s funny how memories flash and dance around in the mind when the kicks of alcohol have taken their tolls, immersed in the sea of what seemed like endless remembering. And it’s hilarious how the memories merge words together like a car crash.
She could almost hear his last words, “I’m sorry,” loiter around the spaces of her now what feels like hollow brain. But instead of feeling that slicing throb and ripping twinge her heart was once familiarized with, she feels nothing. Numbness has taken its control over her whole being as she lays back-down on the floor, engulfed in that last memory as it slowly kidnaps her soul.
The room screams of an unbreakable silence. She watched and waited until both the arrows of the clock come to a halt at twelve. Whether it was twelve, or one, or three, she couldn’t tell the difference; everything around her blurred. She stumbled her way getting up, striding carelessly to the door of her room.
She was drunk, immersed in no sense of knowing what’s real and what’s not. She just kept believing of whatever she saw, despite them being real or not. She saw him there, lying with his arms wide open awaiting her on the bed. She believed he was there, and let herself plunge into the arms of what apparently was nothing.
And then his “I’m sorry” resonated in every corner of her mind again. This time it was too intense she couldn’t help but remembering the entire ripping and bursting ache her heart was once victimized to. She lets out her agony in a form of a long, hysteric scream. In one breath, in one pound, she lets all of it out until she could feel her stomach churned in pain of such force.
She couldn’t remember the next bit;
She got buried in her woe and perhaps dozed off to the inevitable abyss of her mind.