‘I feel suffocated’, he said. I sat there in bewilderment of what the word suffocation meant. I think my mind raced a million pages to find the word but to no avail it didn’t mean ‘pampered’ or ‘extremely understood’. I sat there blankly looking at this person morph into a nobody. I think this is what people feel on their death beds; a nobody.
You said you needed space or I think I said do you need space? it was an answer when you failed to respond. What is space when we are miles apart? What is space when I don’t hear your voice for days? What is space when there is so much heavy unspoken air between us? Space is cheap.
I forgive you’. But did you really? What is forgiveness when your body cringes at the site of me? What is forgiveness when you constantly measure me to my mistakes? I forgave you though but not that you ever asked for it but I can’t simmer in these ifs and maybes.
‘We can be friends,’ he said. I nodded my head in agreement. How silly is it to say that, minutes after announcing the end of our relationship? You just thought there was comfort in the idea that our bondage was not fully annulled. But friendship with you is what made me realize I wanted you as a partner in life; I don’t want to stare at a delicious chocolate ice-cream and not eat it when I want to.
‘Are you cold?’ he asked. I was shivering from the fiercely refreshing winds, tugging on his big hands. I looked up those truly the most genuine eyes and I said ‘no’. He took off his shirt and gave it to me even though I insisted he would be cold. In these dreadful toe-numbing cold days, all I know is being warm is an illusion I am wary of. You never know when someone will pull the rug from under your feet.