Postcard

20 Jun

Someday you will miss me. Someday when I stop hoping it will happen. When I stop holding on even when you aren’t looking back.. Someday..

Not like a ton of bricks, love. No, not as simple as that. It will start small. You will wake up one day to your mundane routine. You will probably find out too late you are out of bread or batter and you will just decide to stop for a quick coffee when you will feel it first. A small whiff of that mix of incense, sweat and hibiscus.

You are going to stand dazed and shocked, in a drunken stupor even as you wonder if I passed by you.. It will follow you around throughout the day. You will gather courage and go look at my profile. You will probably trace my features, lingering over the dip and curve of my mouth, even as memories show you just how much I smiled.. Kissed.. Touched …

Nothing will be free from me. Not even that blue shirt you got last week. You will envision me wearing it, sleeping disheveled and smelling of you, as you wake me up to a morning of languid exploration. Someday you will know, the gaping vacuum in me. That which stings for all its emptiness. Someday, you will miss me, just as much..

And your eyes will fall on an old, forgotten photo where I am looking at you, smiling like you were all I wanted. You will hold your hair and scream my name in desperation, much like an addict for his fix.. I promise you, you will collapse unable to bear the onslaught of memories.

***

© My Rickety Typewriter, 2015; Vintage Ink.

No part of the text – partial or complete – may be copied/reproduced or transmitted without prior permission from the author. The content is the intellectual property of the author. The above applies no matter what way the access to the blog was granted.

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