It was like the familiar street which had been our pillows at midnight when the ones in our bed would rather pull us into our nightmares turned into a stranger’s home. I walked on the same pavement, waited under the same street lamp and looked for you on the same spot across me. But you weren’t there. You were supposed to be there. You were supposed to arrive 10 minutes late, like always. And as always, I would still be there waiting. Waiting, because I know you’d arrive. We were supposed to waste precious time we could have devoted to much serious things like what others are doing. But you and I are not others, right?
You aren’t. You weren’t.
Did you just leave because you got sick of me? Was there no explanation? Was that something between us so passing that you’ve decided to abandon me like a suitcase when you’ve found a home to settle in? Am I not supposed to call for you to comeback? Am I not supposed to find you instead?
Two hours had passed. A day. Another night. Everything is becoming blurry now. I don’t know if these are my tears or the memory of you and I fading instead. But I will wait. Because that was how it’s supposed to be.