“Pardon, but I am an old school.”
"Okayyy, so instead of calling, I will be writing letters when you will visit home. <3”
Back key pressed. Conversation pinned. Delete. “Are you sure you want to delete this conversation?” popped on my cell phone.
I hit the ‘cancel’ button for the umpteenth time and kept staring at the walls.
The right corner of my room seems home to the spiders and the seagull grey colored walls don’t look elegant anymore cause of the ugly graffiti I have made on them, with your name.
I wonder when was the last time my home got renovated and blush thinking about how we planned to get a house on the uppermost floor of a lofty building so that we can make love on our balcony, shamelessly.
There now lays dozens of unwashed coffee cups in my room, scattered all over the place.
Yes, I still find it insipid but somehow it goes perfectly with my bland life and that soothes me in an eerie way.
It even rained today and I recklessly looked out for your white shirt. It now fits me perfectly due to weight loss but I don't feel happy about it. For it still smells like peaches. It still smells of you.
You know, of all the things that have changed, I miss us the most.
I miss you, for every perverse reply you used to text me whenever I said I was heading off for a bath.
I miss you, for every night which used to end up with your sleepy face when I kept on blabbering about how was my day.
I miss you, for every time you got thrown out of the library because you went too loud while I was on the phone.
I miss you, for the all the places I visited without spending a penny because of the way you described them so beautifully, without breaking the flow.
I miss you for everything I desperately wanted to get rid off but failing incessantly to do so.
And now when you have twisted every path and shut every door to reach you, to touch you,
I want to ask, would it be okay if I write to you, just like we planned to do.
It wouldn’t be awkward or would it be?
It wouldn’t be wrong. Right?
For there might be people out there who can get past every cherishing memory, but I don't even have a clue as how to get over you.