Not melancholy, no shoddy business, it struck 3 on that wooden wall frame, that you seemed to love on our first date, it struck 3 and the minute panes kept moving forward like they couldn’t care less, like that framework was just a shackle for them to work underneath, like time was a jail, it struck 3 and the world kept moving forward.
You never even expected to get that call, but the world’s no wish granting factory, right? It was my mother, worried sick as to how could cross time limits, of course, i have to be in by 8 every night, but not today, i wasn’t. She was worried sick and you were confused, babbled as to why in the world would she call you? And you began listening to the same hushed up voice i once muttered sitting right beside you, those words creeping up your ears and in a split of a second, they were gone.
You could hear mother’s freakishly familiar tone intertwining, still babbling, not knowing how possibly you could tell her that i wasn’t with you and that it was your fault, how you could’ve told her about my replacement wrapped up in the sheets next to you, after all, she took you as her son, she wouldn’t mind, you presumed i wouldn’t either.
She’s calling 911 and lodging complaints about me being missing and she was so hurled up that she didn’t even care to cut the phone, she dropped it as swift as the tear drop which trickled down my eye the first time you told me about her, there was no compilation of thoughts, nothing, only reflexes working, only.
two weeks passed and you could hear the deafening noises and clamoring of ornaments from my room’s window, it wasn’t long before dad moved out of the house.
three weeks down and my mother never cared to blame you and you kept wondering why; you couldn’t get over the fact that you indeed were my nemesis. perhaps, this did turn out to be the very bittersweet revenge we once argued about, who’d have known?
nonetheless, you never gave up hope and continued to look for me.
four weeks into it and you got so engrossed in the complexities of me disappearing that I was all you saw, you stopped making love to her because your myths had taken over your rational; she left.
three months and four days- it was our anniversary the day before and you’ve now given up your search for ever finding me, although, deep down you still feel like I’m there, somewhere, I’m alive, but I can’t exist anymore, not in your mind at least.
it’s the new year’s and you’ve not ceased to amaze life; you’ve found another her.