To 'someone I used to know'...
I sometimes wonder what goes on in your mind when someone mentions my name to you.
Do you feel a lump in your throat? Does a silent tear creep up in the corner of your eye? That empty feeling inside your heart, that pricking sensation in your chest, a skipped heart beat, racy pulse, that cold gush of blood flowing through your veins and reaching your head, do you feel all that, or is it just me?
When someone mentions your name to me, it’s as if the whole world stops…or perhaps is set in motion. I can’t really figure out which. I cannot really place a finger on it, just like I couldn’t years ago, when you asked me what you meant to me. Has the dilemma cleared, I cannot say. I can only tell you that the ache has worsened into a phantom pain, the void deepened into a bottomless abyss, and the silent symphony I once enjoyed is slowly turning into a monstrous cacophony.
The slightest mention of your name makes me smile in confusion; what do I call us, loyal friends who drifted apart, restless lovers who failed the test of time, or strangers who were only meant to cross paths and move on? I gulp in silence. Do I know you, they ask me. I thought I did, I want to say but bite my tongue instead.
People who knew us as friends ask me what happened. I wish they would ask you the same. Why should I be the only one feeling uncomfortable? Why should I be the only one subjected to the discomfort of providing a sensible explanation for a senseless drift? No parting words exchanged, no formal goodbyes…even warring nations have the decency to conclude cordially. But I guess it was destined to happen this way. We were drifters from the start, drifters who on finding one another had perhaps committed the folly of settling down a little too long, before they realized it’s not in their nature to do so.
Our footprints in the sands of time will forever remain, perhaps yours always a couple of steps ahead of mine…
Do you feel a lump in your throat? Does a silent tear creep up in the corner of your eye? That empty feeling inside your heart, that pricking sensation in your chest, a skipped heart beat, racy pulse, that cold gush of blood flowing through your veins and reaching your head, do you feel all that, or is it just me?
When someone mentions your name to me, it’s as if the whole world stops…or perhaps is set in motion. I can’t really figure out which. I cannot really place a finger on it, just like I couldn’t years ago, when you asked me what you meant to me. Has the dilemma cleared, I cannot say. I can only tell you that the ache has worsened into a phantom pain, the void deepened into a bottomless abyss, and the silent symphony I once enjoyed is slowly turning into a monstrous cacophony.
The slightest mention of your name makes me smile in confusion; what do I call us, loyal friends who drifted apart, restless lovers who failed the test of time, or strangers who were only meant to cross paths and move on? I gulp in silence. Do I know you, they ask me. I thought I did, I want to say but bite my tongue instead.
People who knew us as friends ask me what happened. I wish they would ask you the same. Why should I be the only one feeling uncomfortable? Why should I be the only one subjected to the discomfort of providing a sensible explanation for a senseless drift? No parting words exchanged, no formal goodbyes…even warring nations have the decency to conclude cordially. But I guess it was destined to happen this way. We were drifters from the start, drifters who on finding one another had perhaps committed the folly of settling down a little too long, before they realized it’s not in their nature to do so.
Our footprints in the sands of time will forever remain, perhaps yours always a couple of steps ahead of mine…
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