Ricochet

Much as I believed it to be all over, a hopeful star that lead me on, out and away from the overwrought wreck that I was, or so I thought. For you, I know, I hold no more of what I did or what I could have. Futility lead me on. Many a tear I may have shed on those everlasting sleepless nights, but I do now know for sure that at the end of it all, you mean no more than you once, long ago, did – a time that seems to figure in an epoch different. What it has been for you, I do not know and you do not seem to allow. Words fail me. You leave me plain dumbstruck not knowing whether taking a step forward would be inappropriate encroachment. Incomprehensive, speechless, bearing no locus, I feel but ludicrous.

The love, the care can never fade my dear and it isn’t that I would allow the first thought of it. You may not be my world but certainly shall always be a part. Of you, I worry many a day and manage you do to still hurt, to still glisten my eye with unshed tears and beat that little that is left of me. Am I not worthy enough to deserve a better answer?

I wonder now why I even stay. It wouldn’t take long to walk away, leave you behind with  them broken pieces, to have you pick them up on your own and figure for yourself what fits where. Sadly, I wasn’t born inhuman – virtuous I have been and otherwise, I cannot.

As the hurt of one wound seems to heal, the other now looms large as painful, each itching sting a stark reminder of my blindness. It doesn’t matter that no ordinary person would stand by but in the affirmative I say, I shall. In your present temperament, you must think me a fool but someday when sense comes knocking on your door, realization will strike you hard with reality. As they say, the truth, it always hurts.

And then I hope, when unknown, you would turn around and positively assert, with that innocently genuine smile, acceptance of the past, as you head out your way and I will mine.

Goodbye for the present, my dear one, for my presence or absence doth make but any difference.