To most of the questions you ask me, I will do my best to give a proper response; if you prefer it, I will even write a story about it. However, I don't believe in biographies that are accompanied by the prefix auto-. Therefore, the best you'll get from me is this anti-biography.
They used to ignite, the second they’d see me. They’d follow me and caress me with their gaze. I was allowed to hear whispers from beneath their coffee-like surface. And those dark speckles that dot them... They mapped out my world.
You used to kiss my forehead and say “Goodbye” and I knew you would return. I’d watch your back as you’d walk away, lost inside that beautiful jumble you called your mind. I could feel time taking a ragged breath. You’d tire it out. You’d make it run, as you always did. It would stubbornly drag its feet when left alone with me.
I’d drink my coffee and chuckle at the thought of your scrunched up face every time you’d steal a sip from my mug. The memory of that one time, that one absurd promise of yours – one of many – has, ever since then, been the final ingredient to my morning beverage. We had just met and after hearing that coffee, the taste of which you despised, was my favorite drink, you insisted on training yourself to love it too. You never could.
On my way to work I’d often stumble and trip as I’d dash down those two streets that stretch out between my office and our apartment, I regret never being able to mimic your grace. Even so, I wish to never lose my tardiness. I don’t ever want to lose those traits which made you say you’d stay or wait forever.
Songs I wouldn’t even think of listening to would remain tied to my thoughts by the melody that trickled from your lips each time you thought there was no one there to hear you. No one but me. Since the moment we first exchanged our names, I’ve been a glitch within that seamless mechanism of a life you were supposed to have, haven’t I?
“All the more reason to love you,” is what you’d say.
I’d open my mouth, a step away from uttering a witty remark I had composed, and remember you weren’t standing next to me.
But you would be, soon. Read more...