Like a dying echo of the birth of the world in a shell, I try to find the beginning of our end in your silence. When this comforting occurrence of silence slowly lost its meaning. Comfort turned into brooding hatred.
It all started with the want to impress you. We tested each other’s walls. Were they capable of breaking down to lead you & I into the unknown?
I lied. I lied when I told you the first we talked was the first time we met. I saw you every day, sipping your morning cup of coffee in the cafe that conveniently came, on the way to my work. Sometimes I didn’t feel like going, yet I went, just to see you.
I dreamt daily but they never included you. Even dreams couldn’t hold the power to capture in an unreal world, let alone have a desire to remember your face because I could never remember your face.
No matter how many times I saw it while going to work. That’s why my head always turned when I walked past the cafe, just to remember your face for a while till it recognised it lacked the power to hold it. But one day you weren’t there.
The history of our love started the day you weren’t there at the coffee shop because that was the day you think we met for the first time. The day we first talked.
Does it even matter though? To look back at the past as if it was still beating its heart. Calling upon memories as if it will present the feelings we held then again today. What use do I have for them now? Now your image is stuck in my head but my habit of turning my head when I pass coffee shop still endures. But you aren’t there anymore.