I don’t know why I thought it was temporary.
I don’t know why I thought I would go back there at some point. I guess, it still feels unrealistic. I guess, I’ve never accepted it.
All I wanted was to be there. All I wanted was to be next to you. Nothing more. Nothing less.
And not seeing your face for so long, it feels like something is stealing pieces of my soul, until there’s nothing left.
You know, you still travel with me everywhere I go. And like a lunatic I’ve been talking to myself with your voice, hoping one day you’re going to say the exact same words.
I opened my mouth and wanted to
say words I would never say to anyone.
I opened my arms and wanted to
give the warmth I would never give to anyone.
I wanted to talk to you about so many things, yet my lips went sealed once I saw the clasped hands on your lap. In that moment I felt like you didn’t treat me like your friend.
In that moment I realized that you weren’t my friend.
I realized that I didn’t have friends.
I was alone.
One thought on “22 Diaries. Story eighteen”
Great suspense with a rather sad finish.
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