At last, it's done! It took a while, but here it is! But wait! What is it? Is it a love story? Or something else? That's what I'd like you to ask yourselves once you're done. Enjoy!
It's been so long, I don't even remember when it was. Days? Months? Years? It sure feels that way. I remember everything else, though. Like the time I first met her. The time I went with her to the halfway house. And of course, I couldn't forget the last time I saw her, the night when I brought the truth to her face that she just couldn't stomach.
The look on her face that night, I just can't forget, no matter how hard I tried. That's why I'm waiting here, in this place, alternating between coffee to keep me awake and plain water, to remind myself of everything she's said to me. Maybe I'm here for myself, trying to find absolution in her half-shut eyes when she finally walks through that door. I don't know. I try not to think about that. Instead I look into my glass of water, rewinding everything that happened in my head.
The first time I saw her was at a volunteers' symposium. I forget the title or the purpose or the NGO that hosted it. Mercy? WHO? I forget a lot of things. What I do remember though, is how I first saw her, and what I thought and felt at the time. It's a bit unsavory now, to think about it, but I can't change the past anymore than I can change the fact that what I'm drinking right now is water.
Just plain water.
'LOVE STORY'
It's been so long, I don't even remember when it was. Days? Months? Years? It sure feels that way. I remember everything else, though. Like the time I first met her. The time I went with her to the halfway house. And of course, I couldn't forget the last time I saw her, the night when I brought the truth to her face that she just couldn't stomach.
The look on her face that night, I just can't forget, no matter how hard I tried. That's why I'm waiting here, in this place, alternating between coffee to keep me awake and plain water, to remind myself of everything she's said to me. Maybe I'm here for myself, trying to find absolution in her half-shut eyes when she finally walks through that door. I don't know. I try not to think about that. Instead I look into my glass of water, rewinding everything that happened in my head.
The first time I saw her was at a volunteers' symposium. I forget the title or the purpose or the NGO that hosted it. Mercy? WHO? I forget a lot of things. What I do remember though, is how I first saw her, and what I thought and felt at the time. It's a bit unsavory now, to think about it, but I can't change the past anymore than I can change the fact that what I'm drinking right now is water.
Just plain water.