“Why have you left?”
Thinking about you is like reading a book. It’s a book I deeply love but I am reading it very slowly now. Perhaps, I am too afraid reaching the bottom of the last page because it ends right where you said goodbye. Staring at the letters made me notice the infinite spaces between them. And I can still feel you and the words of our story.
I am afraid that it is in this endless space that you’re finding yourself now. It is a place not of the physical world. It is where all the particles of the sun are at. I didn’t know such place existed. I love you so much and I have to accept that this is what you are now.
As much as I want to throw my arms around you and read about how our book provided the complete descriptions of your warmth -you can’t live there anymore.
I was not done writing our book. They said, a punctuation at the end of a sentence gives meaning to every word - every space that preceded it. You forced a certain punctuation even before I wrote all the words I would want you to read. You forced to change the meaning and let each letter bleed for a plot-twist.
You said you were sorry I still write about you and that there will come a time when I won’t write about you anymore. How can I even do that when the cure to this pain is finding you in my words? You were so scared when I left you because you don’t have the power with verses to find me. I guess you gave me the taste of how it is to be left alone. You know well how dark it can get.
I want to know where you are going exactly.
I know it’s too hard for you to explain now. But if my time comes - I will go find you… I am certain nothing will ever pull us apart…
