Far Behind

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Did he know the tattered notebook you kept under your pillow that you read before you go to sleep? The entries spoke the incubuses you could not breathe – remember how I wrote down the parts of my sugar-filled dreams to quietly tell you it would happen to you? We had the balance.

Did he find out about the vintage box you hid in your closet? It carried the burned photos of your father – you were able to retrieve them before the fire properly caught the paper. Remember how your tears would expose that you dearly missed your father, but you would not want for your mother to know? I held you until you fell asleep – I would not leave until the dawn. We had the conversations.

Did he catch the way you wanted to be grasped when you kiss? You wanted the graze of the thumb against your lower lip as you feel the month-old stubble on my jaws – entwining my fingers around the back of your head before I sink and drown into your plump lips. We had the harmonies.

It was rushing inside my head as I gazed into your smile – shot for him and not for my eyes. I longed for you to turn around; to meet my eyes and search the apologies I prepared for you.

I did not mean to leave you. We were just so young that I feared it would break us – a hindrance of our development.

But I was far behind, was I?

Because it was clear how I had just become a figment of your memory.


WORD COUNT: 265

Thank you for reading this story. If you want to talk about random things with me, do not hesitate to reach me through my “Contact” page. All the best love, my dear.

let me hold your words before you leave;

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