FWF… Being left behind


*You suddenly find yourself standing alone on an unknown sidewalk in an unknown place. It’s night and snowing and the only other person around is walking away from you…*


You asked to meet me…

I flew across the ocean, to see you again…

And here we are, two hours in, and we are fighting. Why this always happens, I don’t know. But usually it happens over email, and in cryptic messages. This is different, this is a full-blown fall out in the middle of London, my favourite place on earth is suddenly my worst place on earth…

We were supposed to spend Christmas together, in a strange place, to fit our strange, cryptic relationship. But you have to leave. And I’m going to be alone. Alone in a place bigger than I thought possible. It’s snowing. It’s cold. And you are turning your back on me.


I don’t even know were exactly I am!

“Miguel!” I call out, the tears on my cheeks feel frozen, and I push a smile through the tears as you turn around, that frown, always present, on your face.

“What?” You ask with that accent that pulled me in the first time I saw you.

“Don’t go…”  I whisper, and I’m afraid you’re not going to hear me, but you do. You close the distance you put between us and I look up. Into that brown eyes that always seem to know what I’m thinking.

And you put your arms around me, envelop me in you hug, an occurrence that is exceptionally rare, as you are not the touching type. I inhale you, like the drug you are to me. And save that smell away, because it feels like the last time I’m ever going to smell that.

Why is this feeling like good-bye?

“Please stay? I came here for you. For me and you, in London…”

“I know…” you reply, that accent drawing out the words as you break my heart again, and again.

You step away and my tears resume. This was a mistake, I know now. This was not where I was suppose to be.

“I love you…” you say then, me tears flowing heavily now, without  stop, without restriction.

“You love me?”

“Yes.” You look at me as if I’m stupid for not realizing it.

“Okay…” I reply and kiss you, a kiss that says everything I haven’t been able to say in words, in emails, in letters.

And then you pull away, “Stop that…” the tears start-up again, “or I’ll never be able to leave.”

“That’s my plan,” I give a teary giggle as you pull me into another devastating hug.

“About time…” you reply, and I know you are not talking about the kiss, about my joke or about my laugh. But you are saying that it’s about time you leave. Its one of our very bad inside jokes, one of the things that no one understood about us.

I let you go this time and you walk away, the first few steps looking at me, walking backwards. As if you want to remember this picture of me, jeans, boots and your jacket on, forever. I cry silently as you turn around and I’m left alone, alone on a strange street, in a strange town, with the only person I care to know walking away from me… And I have no idea if I will ever see you again…

Thanks Kellie for giving me the opportunity to write, I forgot how good it feels just writing for the sake of it.


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