At the train station was the last time we kissed. She was leaving for her trip and I was there to drop her off. A quite sad ceremony it was, two pathetic lovers were there to say their goodbyes and promises of staying in touch everyday. The train whistled away and I stood there a little longer acknowledging the emergence of the void of company that she left behind.
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In the cab on my way back, I texted her all the ‘I love yous’ and ‘I miss yous’ with all the emojis lovers use.
Come next week we were in a fight. The fight lasted a few days and who knew it had become a war and we were the casualties. And then as the dust settled and she left me I don't even remember what we had been fighting over. The break up message she sent was crisp and clear.
The next couple of days were spent in self loathing and late night angry texts.
Then came the gruesome second war, nothing was held back, all the death machines had one objective; clear the guilt. We were both so consumed in selfishly clearing the blot of guilt that lay on us by throwing the ball in each other's court. The war was so intense that she had strenuously gathered allies to fight with her to win the prize of being guilt free. Beaten as I was, I rested my rusted weapons and bowed down in defeat. What the hell were we doing?
I looked back on those moments of ecstatic joy that I spent with her, the girl of my dreams. The great many times she stood by warding off my anxieties, my cradle of solace. The many times I would just be in awe of her amazingly beautiful imperfections that made her so special like a snowflake in the snow. She indeed was someone special for me, a part of my life I couldn't live without.
I went back to her, third week after the commencement of war, surrendering myself and begging forgiveness, a tired veteran looking for home. But she was gone, or at least the girl I knew, was gone. Here stood a stranger I couldn't recognize. Broken hearts forge broken people with sharp edges, I guess. I sulked away in defeat.
Now that I think of it, I never actually knew her. The girl I knew was only a part of the spectrum she chose to reveal. She was and had always been the mysterious shadow that morphed into what you wanted to see. So I kissed someone that day on the train station before saying goodbye, and I'm still waiting for her to return, hating this long distance relationship.
