What Will You Really Miss

The words lingered long after she was gone, like dust motes suspended in air. Every now and then, they’d catch a ray of the dying day and glimmer like faint hope, but when I’d try to reach out, I’d come back with nothing but thin air. I wondered, if I listened to her and did as she bid, how difficult will it be for me. It was true that we weren’t in a deal or had signed an agreement, we were just two pieces of driftwood that came together and stopped the flow of time, which was now hell bent on doing us apart.

What would I really miss though, the way my name sounded in her voice or the warmth that melted me when she’d let herself be held in my arms or may be the person I became in her presence. Perhaps, the smell would linger like the smell of winter does in cotton quilts.

My fingers will momentarily hover over her name when I’d scroll through the phone-book and it will bring back an influx of memories and one day I’d just delete it, however they’ll take their own sweet time to fade away. Her absence will create chasms in my heart till they leave it looking like a discarded piece of emmentel cheese, the memories of our time together will hold the shreds of what remains of my heart, together…save it from falling apart and fading into nothingness.

Her side of the bed was slowly turning cold and the card palace she had built last night was still standing among the ruins of empty bottles and cigarette butts. I looked at it for a while and then touched the center piece of the foundation and the whole structure quivered, it reminded me of the way she quivered when I held her for the first time.

Her things were everywhere, or may be everything reminded me of her, it was hard to decide. I wondered if she’d feel the same way, or when will she finally drop my name from her conversation, when my name will cease into nothing but a long list of fleeting acquaintances she had. It’ll drop like the corpse of a fly finally does from an unoccupied web or the way that waving hand fades into the horizon against the backdrop of bellowing smoke.

Perhaps, I was being selfish, I wanted her to sacrifice her freedom in the fire of my misery or may be I was just a bird, locked up in a pathetic cage, thinking that the birds on the other side were truly crazy to be flying so brazenly. Was she really walking out on me or was I the one letting myself left behind like an old record that can barely play a few audible notes…




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