Sunday, September 5, 2010

*nicotine drenched silent conversation*

Comforting cold air washed my entity with emotions without reason. The season of jackets have begun.

I ran to the bathroom and let the steaming water engulf my quiet solitude. Humming to A.Len's version of "waiting in vain" and playing memories of his sweet kisses and floor sweeping whispers.

He is gone. I know that. I dried my hair and stared at myself in the mirror. My eyes easily give my feelings away.

Walking to the room thinking of what to wear. The lights flickered and snippets of him laughing at me was vaguely remembered. I let my guard down.

I dressed up slowly. Plain white tee, tattered skinny jeans, flip flops. Grabbed my bag and comfy black sweater. Mmmm. The scent that remains, sweet nothings of vodka and nicotine. It lingers for a while.

Hailed a cab and it drove slowly. Dropped off at the curb of a familiar street.

I walked. I walked slowly. The rain poured like heaven was crying. No other choice but to run. Running. Seemed like eternity. Shadows dawned left and right.

As I reached the coffee joint of drama and judgment. I stood by a huge post. Scrummaging through the depths of my bag. A stick of Marlboro and a fuzzy black lighter.

I tried to light my stick but the Gods were furious. I'm drenched in despair. I needed misery's company.

His hands were shaking. A tiny whimpering flame in front of me.

A man in his 30's. 6 feet tall, scruffy hair, deep brown eyes. Black cardigan, black scarf, dark jeans, black loafers. Gorgeous.

His face showed something familiar. Something I've seen before. In the lines of seasonal mourning.

We remained silent and kept on smoking. He smiled and left.

The rain stopped and I walked my own path.

That moment I understood him.

He was lonely...

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