I shouldn’t miss this guy but I miss him anyway…

beth

 

Bethelhem Teame

I think I miss missing him,

What else can it be then that makes me so restless after all the time that has passed between ‘us’ and all the time we were undone?

All the time we existed as ‘I’ and ‘him’ as separate entities outside the bubble we created as ‘us’. Maybe I am too idle and unfocused to dillydally on the events of the past,

To still dwell in the faint memory of ‘us’.

Maybe I am coming down with a system breakdown that affects both the heart and the mind.

But I do miss his smile.

I miss his playful teases.

I miss his carefree life style that began to affect me in many ways more than I had allowed.

I miss his passionate arguments and beliefs about life.

I miss his jumpy walks and especially that swagger he adds to every step of his strides.

I miss the way his eyes bore into mine- as if he can read the contents of my mind.

I miss those crooked lines around his mouth when he smiles his enigmatic smile.

I miss his dorkiness and the fact that he stood out.

He knew I was going to miss him this much when he asked me how much will I miss him after his goodbye.

I shrugged it off and said I wasn’t such a woman; I don’t waste time and energy on such sentimental emotionalism of the past.

He smiled.

He smiled that enigmatic smile and winked knowingly as if he saw a sneak preview of the upcoming torrent of emotions I would be overwhelmed within the mind and my poor heart.

He knew I was going to miss him this much how else would he have known to leave me with the small gifts that remind me of him every second of every hour.

The key chain as I opened the house.

The doormat that welcomes me inside.

The corkscrew as I open my beverages every time.

The hairpin when I tie my hair up.

The small mirror by the side.

The lamp on my nightstand………..

Sometimes I wonder and keep pondering about all that, maybe he gave me all these purposely to mastermind the power of his great absence in my life.

To accentuate the void he left behind.

Maybe he calculated my every move, studied my daily routine to come up with a constant reminder of him in my life.

Maybe he knew me more than I wanted to believe.

Anyways, the bitter truth I wanted to swallow is, I miss this player that made me gamble my heart in the great game of our time.

Who knew I was going to forfeit the power over my heart as I stretched my hand to his stretched hand, when he said ‘hello’ for the first time?

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