Arms Around Your Love

A step more. She is gone. She left.
My days are empty without her. I call friends to fill my time with something and all they say is “Hey, she was just a girl, move on!” Thing is, she wasn’t just a girl. She was the girl. My love. And she is gone. She left.

I sit here, remembering how she loved to walk in here at night when she couldn’t sleep. This chair was her favourite. She would sit in it, grab a book from the shelf and read until she fell asleep and then I would come to take her to bed. But now she is gone. She left.

My phone is ringing – a friend. “Let’s go out tonight”, he says. “Let’s!”, I answer gladly. Something to take my mind away from her. I take my jacket and leave, I go outside in the cool night air. I walk to the place, the cold seeping through my clothes, touching my skin. Oh, how I wish she was here to keep me warm. She’s warming herself now, she is gone. She left.

I walk in the club, seeing my friend at a table, flashing him a smile. “A beer”, I tell the bartender and then I see her. Right there, on the other side of the bar, next to him. He gives me the beer and takes the money and then his arms, they hold her. They are around my love. She’s no longer mine, she is gone. She left.

Slowly I walk to my friend, not looking back. “Did you see him holding her?!”, I ask. “Who?”, my friend looks at me questioningly. “My love, that guy at the bar has his arms around her.”, I say, somewhat irritated. “This is how you pay for not showing what it is inside.”, my friend answers calmly. She is gone. She left.

Yet I still feel her in my arms. Her smell still haunts me. The price she asks of me is too high to pay. I’d better let her go. She is gone. She left.
I’d better go as well. I am gone. I left.

29.11.2008
Replica

Home

She was standing at the bus station. The engine roar was filling her mind. The petrol fumes filled her nostrils.
People were going off and on the buses, kissing goodbye or welcome, hugging and walking down the path, between the buses, past her, to a warm coffee shop.
Memories came how not so long ago she went to the bus station with joy, the smell of petrol filled her with happiness and the engine roar of the bus gave her hope that this time it won't be a waste. She remembered as she was going off in another city and there was someone she could hug and how she came back with tears in her eyes, alone again. She was looking for her home for years - that place she could hide from all the world, to be herself, no masks on, to laugh, to love. And every time it was all the same. The person opposite her smiled and gave her hope that this time it would be worth it, that this is her home, that he would hide her, and every time there was this fatal "last time" when the home was there, but it was cold and alien for her. And she would walk away hurt and bleeding.

She met him a year ago. She sought nothing more than friendship, but as time went by he managed to find a way to her heart and he himself offered what she was looking for. But even now fear was there, somewhere deep inside her. She was afraid that she would lose him, like she lost everyone before him. She was afraid it was too good to be true. She was afraid.
This is why she never went to the bus station to buy a ticket and run to his arms. She always went there to pick him up, to hold him and feel herself lost in him, feel herself becoming invisible for the world.

The speakers burst with a monotonous voice saying the platform number, the bus number, from which city it came and at what time and she smiled unconsciously. He was on it.
She saw the bus showing itself slowly behind the corner and a warm feeling filled her.
Coming closer.
She looked for him - there he was, smiling at her. She smiled too.
The bus stopped and she walked to it slowly. The doors opened and people went off, looking for their people.
He got off, smiled and hugged her. A cold chill ran down his spine.
- Let's go home.
- I am home.
She smiled at him and they walked with no direction, holding each other.

02.11.2008
Replica