I look at him. His face intensely stretched over his papers. His eyebrows squished together in anticipation for the moment at which he’ll understand the words in his hands, which are tightly grasping his notes – his knuckles white from frustration. His blue eyes sparkling for hope. His red lips pulled in a straight line, slightly parted to allow more oxygen into his brain.
He doesn’t notice me looking or maybe he does and he doesn’t bother to acknowledge that. We used to be close, really close.
You think you’re fooling me with your nonchalant behavior, but I know it’s bothering you that I’m not trying harder to mend things between us—as if telling you I missed you was not enough. I know you; I know that that’s going to make things more confusing for you—in what sense do I miss you? You’re probably wondering. I do not know where your head is at after that night but I do know you are puzzled and you do not know how to handle your thoughts, or carry yourself when you are around me. But I’m right here and I just want you back, I want us back. I don’t know what you want right now, and I suppose I’m willing to wait, but the longer you take, the more I’ll slip away. Knowing who I am, I know that as the days go by without you, I’ll miss you and it will hurt to see your face or hear your voice or see you joke around and not be a part of it, but I will heal and your memories will fade, allowing me to build new ones with someone else, a new friend. Your space in my heart and life is temporary if you so choose it.
So as I sit here looking at you, a tiny tear rolls down my cheek. I put my hand to my heart and hold it, cradle it, trying to hold it together so the cracks don’t spread. I guess this is it my friend. This is the end. I shall let go before there is no chance to recover.