48 hours...

48 hours...

Sep 3, 2016, 10:46:20 PM Creative

48 hours.

That was what I told myself when silence followed my last message I sent on the night of Thursday.

I told myself there was totally no point in waiting for someone who does not even border to reply. A relationship cannot start one-sided. It takes two hands to clap and obviously, the other was not keen on convening together. Should this relationship blossom out of pity and forced contemplations, it would never last. Communication was the key, but you held one for the wrong lock.

24 hours passed.

Trying to get past 12 hours without constantly checking on my phone and on the WhatsApp is an extremely difficult task. You constantly bombarded my mind with recollections and reminiscent of what we had before. These thoughts and sweet memories seemed to latched onto the deepest pit in my mind, not wanting to let you go.

If I had a cent every time I think of you, I would have been rich within the first 12 hours.  Besides the longing for your message, and returning the vibrations of my phone with supreme enthusiasm hoping that it would be you (and then being disappointed again), I found solace in the love articles in ThoughtCatalog.

Stumbling across this 66 “I Miss You” Quotes on ThoughtCatalog made my misery a lot worse. These quotes constantly fished out pieces of time fragments, figments of our passion. I recalled the night we ventured into the park, with you sharing parts of your life. Or speeding over to the toilet several miles further when you started urging me that incontinence is going to strike.

What about the night over at Starbucks, before our first movie in the theaters? You went to the counter for a cup of Matcha drink and came back with two straws. The subtly of your intent was noted, but I did not reciprocate, for our time we had was repleted with awkwardness of a newly met couple – shy and at lost.

36 hours passed.

It was 9pm.

“Just 12 hours more and you’ll be gone”. That was what I told myself, to slowly ease the pain of not seeing you again, letting you go, before slipping myself under covers and slept.

When I woke up, the clock showed me the time – 8 in the morning.

I almost died.

All my efforts in the past 40 odd hours went down into the drain.

I received a message from you 1am the day before I crept under my covers and drifted off.

“Hey, you sleeping yet?”

That was the downfall of everything.

We texted and whenever I accidentally opened up the wounds of our past mistake, you would get angry and ignored the message. I discovered that trait in you, but it was during then which confirmed my analysis of your behavior. As long as something you were not comfortable about saying, you will disappear without a trace or madness will fill you in quickly.

I have learnt how to avoid traps in our conversations, detours that could eventually lead to the wrong path. We managed our conversation well. Everything was going smoothly, and the feelings were real – they were two-way as well.

I thought things would progress to be better, especially after chatting with you on WhatsApp for the entire day on Sunday, and also after you asked me an opinion about a life-changing situation you are facing now. Sadly, good things never lasted for us.

I guess those words you’ve said to me “Only time I will commit is if I’m sure of something”, “because I like to see things to the end”, “obviously, I can’t see how this will end well” wounded me deeply enough to leave a scar – much like the scar I had on my right knee. This newly inflicted scar built barriers around me whenever I was interacting with you, setting off alarm bells and red flags whenever I got too involved. This short week has taught me that I am not into you anymore, or rather, whatever ties we had, will not carry us far – for you, only walk in my path of life for this truncated period.

However, much like cancer cells which grow without mechanisms putting them in check, the scar built a much larger barricade. I am at lost if finding a relationship will ever work for me, not now, but unsure about the distant future.

Sometimes, I felt like blocking you off, cutting any contacts with you. But a part of me screamed and rebelled. Maybe, you could teach me a thing or two about talking to people whom I feel awkward with or shared no base of a topic to converse about.

Nonetheless, I made a decision to try to make things work. Eventually, when things get busier, I might not have the time to mend this broken, snipped tie of ours. That will then signify the death of something I like. But the memories, they will never fade.

Published by Lucius


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