2014. 2040.

Snow is romantic’, the freezer got attractive but the kitchen is always occupied. That’s how close I’ll ever get to you or winter. A refrain. I’m dragging my words from the dark. That’s not an implication that you are cold just that you are far away. Some things will never see the light.

Questions asked to a turned back. Ever basked only for a cloud or someone to cut off the sunshine? There is a feeling for that I don’t know how to express. Even when the cloud passes it is not the same.

It was to be 2014 though it sounded like 2040 and ‘forever young’ is playing. ‘Do you really want to live forever?’ he asks. Time puts me to task, ‘do you really want to live forever, forever young?’ Methinks I’m old; am on memories more

Hope you’re good and your ambitions are on schedule. I am fashioning this that any response will be at your pleasure. I’m putting this down in such a way that even in your silence my pride will withstand the hit. No expectation. It won’t be easy to pretend this never happened. The remedy for that will be to post this on my blog and try to pass it off as fiction. I replay Sauti sol’s ‘Wera’ to that effect. Perfect timing

No need in going back to how you left- Ran Away. Not even a note but your scent hangs on my thoughts of you – my notes. Bringing to mind Jack Vettriano’s painting ‘Altar of a Memory’. ‘My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy’… It’s been years of me going through your pictures. I had to delete your number and then your text messages. Finally, I managed to bring myself to do it. Yeah, a picture is worth a thousand words.

Our conversations mark a period. I wonder what changes you have undergone since then, your progress, successes, growth, insights and so on. For instance, the runway trade and your studies; the closest I allow myself to anything emotional is Arsenal f.c. and typing that, a smile plays on my lips. Feelings are a messy affair it is how we got here. Right?

I thought of getting your address from our mutual friend and it was only a stray thought. It was for me to send a post card with ‘guess who’ or a letter, something like this here something for Christmas or a February /March ‘anniversary’. That’s about the time we broke contact… ‘we’?

There is a plethora of reasons for my doing what I’m doing. Closure? …  obsession, could it be ?




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