The clock ticked. Time flew so quickly. We were sitting on a couch and all of a sudden, you ran from me…from our home. I chased you; mountains and trees barricaded the view. You went too far. I was trying to catch my breath after splinter pierced my foot—wasn’t able to wear those slippers again ‘cause I was hurrying just to take a glimpse of you…even for a second; this I begged.
Seconds ago, at last, I saw you half-smiled; you kissed ‘goodbye’ to me for the meantime and alas, I found no shadow of you anymore. Albeit, it is routinary, this face was the same face I wore the first time you did it. This is our everyday setup. You are here with me until 5 PM; you will be gone onwards and will be back at 6 AM.
That is why, I learned to anticipate your presence the next day. I’ve been holding one of your promises for me since then—to wake me up. I got used to it. Never in my entire life did I pull my curtain to a close so that when the morning comes, you are the first thing I would see. It is somewhat relieving. You are the reason why I am indeed grateful and blessed each new day.
A moment came that I heard some voices saying that foreseeing things does not always appear good. Brokenness and misery, its roots could be! I tried to divert all of my fears and frustrations including those ‘what-ifs’. And I know that you also did. You used to vent what’s troubling inside of you. That’s why I knew.
In spite of what you’ve sworn to me, it’s kind of unavoidable to come across these questions in my mind:
Will I just keep on being like this everytime the daylight grows faint?
Can’t we really meet on the same page?
In the end, this appeared—we have already lost our fight. Our hands have been bleeding while tightly gripping onto this rope for years. We’ve shed gallons of tears enough. Perhaps we’re really not. We can’t be.
It’s 5 PM. The sunset is beautiful, isn’t it?
