I Will Wait For You

by Amrin Talib · December 8, 2015

Every night as I tossed and turned in my sleep, I smelt you. Every morning in the coffee I made for myself, your scent lingered. It lingered in the books I read, it lingered in the places I visited. I thought, maybe, just maybe, I hadn’t imagined you.

Maybe you did really exist.

Image source: Pixabay, under Creative Commons License

How powerful are some connections – they start with a simple smile and you would never even imagine that it would turn into something of magnitude so great, that when that person leaves, they leave with a huge chunk of you.

And when they do, you think, nay, you KNOW you can never be whole again. Pain emanates from every shattered piece of you and you build up a wall of defense – a wall built out of sheer willpower and determination, so as to never let anyone in again.

You looked so deep into my eyes that the scar on my wrist was no longer an enigma. I gave into you. I remember how your warm lips felt against my cold skin. A shiver runs down my spine. I am not sad that I let you in, I never will be. The pain pours in when I realize that I will never feel your fingers drag on my skin again. I can still taste you in the back of my mouth but never again will you hold me close, like you used to – never again will you love me, like you used to. I wonder why. It haunts me on lonely nights as these when tracing your invisible presence on the crumpled lines of my bedsheet brings back a million questions!

I loved you so, and so did you, until it all came crashing down on us.

I sit here, with my back pressed against the cold, rain-washed windows, thinking of what I could have done to save us – to save me. Maybe I shouldn’t have said things that I did – maybe I should have been more compromising.

Maybe, maybe not.

Image source: Pixabay, under Creative Commons License

My body refuses to forget your touch, and my mind yearns for the fulfillment only you can provide.

I have seen you crash and cry and beg at someone else’s feet as I watched. You’ve burned and wept. You have put on a thousand different faces to please people who mean nothing to you and all the while I watched.

Every time you put your hand out, I took it. Every morning you called out my name, I stayed. Every night a troubled phantom woke you, I remained.