I just came back from a night out with my friends. Slightly intoxicated, I decided to go to the room where I know you were already there. Thank God the alcohol overcame my fear of walking up those stairs. I was worried that you would forget how it feels between us. I knew it was only a month we were a part but that was more than enough to make us into ‘almost strangers’. At least that was what I thought. I quietly opened the door and saw you sleeping on the other side of the bed. I tipped toe to the shower, quickly washed off the cigarette smell or maybe a few spills of someone else’s drink. I didn’t quite remember. I kept the room dark. Not that I didn’t want to wake you up but I didn’t want you to see me. Somehow I felt so insecure. I still feel I wasn’t enough for anyone, not even for you to keep.
The reality of our own tangible world has become what matter to us more. We are already at the end of the candle wick. We talked only about what is necessary then it is no longer necessary for us to talk.
The fire has died and the room becomes dark again. What goes around comes back around, they say. Those who were once strangers now have become strangers again.