Even if our words have died, know that our memories live. It gets stronger as another day rises. Erase the time – it does nothing in our mistakes; it never heals what it promises to heal – false pretenses.
Yet for years, we have lived under them.
I can still picture you – vivid and filled with serenity. As your fingers shake while you drink your Americano gripping the vulnerable sheets of the scented newspaper with our other hand. The sun falls over your head while you ignore the beach view before you.
All this as I sit before you like a dream – a ghost you never long for.
Sometimes, I wish we have never crossed. I still have the nights where I can watch the ceiling fade from black to yellow without blinking. True enough, desperation exists in me.
Through my visions of you, I can have you. As long as I can imagine the words I want you to tell me, my feet will not surrender to death. In an often time, I wonder if your bones are as cold as mine over the empty sheets of a king-sized bed.
I wonder if someone is already there to make you warm.
WORD COUNT: 200
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.