The last time I saw her…

The last time I saw her…

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My head hurts from a thousand aches.

The sun glares heatedly at me, in contempt as I walk down the dusty path, devoid of hope and reason. I have depression, my most faithful friend for company and I gloomily look forward to a blue afternoon all by myself when out of nowhere, I see her. She stands in the haze, a lone delicate peony flower gradually stilting in the wilderness. As usual we have small talk, irrelevant small talk that stays the issues of import. I know I pursue a lost cause, I know the sun would rise and chase the sweet moonlit dreams of night-time away. Yet every time she disarms me by taking off my spectacles, every time she stares through my eyes into my soul, I feel…I feel…

As the last bus leaves, I want to, need to secure a space for her, but she would have none of it, she’s headstrong and has a proud gypsy spirit to blame. She never lets me buy her anything, let me take her anywhere…she never let me love her…

She is young, so she thinks time is endless; there will always be time for her to realize she loves me, to realize no one would ever love and respect her like I do. She believes she’s strong enough to face the ravenous wolves waiting to come feed on her pure sweetness, hiding silently in the shadows, waiting patiently to pounce on her and tear apart her virtue.

It’s the end of the year, so I wish her a happy holiday, promising to see her next year, the latter a blatant lie. For I will never see her again, of course not literarily; we are in the same department, but my heart won’t clench next time I see her, it won’t heave when next I see her laughing hysterically in the arms of another boy. No, it’s not my eyes but my heart that won’t see her again. Because it’s tired of sleepless nights, wondering things that would never happen; the feel of her lips at the first kiss, the look on her face when she finally realizes she loves me.

As I walk away, it is with a new sense of freedom. I even hail a bike, riding home with my feet in the air, in sheer glee…because I will never see her again.

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5 thoughts on “The last time I saw her…” by TJ Benson (@jazz)

  1. Profile photo of Olan
    Olan (@Olan): Scribe - 15363 pts

    Aww…..sad. Beautiful

  2. Profile photo of topazo
    topazo (@topazo): Head Wordsmith - 58959 pts

    Ur writing is beautiful

  3. Profile photo of TJ Benson
    TJ Benson (@jazz): Junior Writer - 4923 pts

    thanks @olan @topazo congrats on your feature!

  4. Profile photo of Efadel
    Efadel (@febidel): Senior Scribe - 26498 pts

    @jazz, freedom, right? This is an interesting read.

  5. Profile photo of innoalifa
    innoalifa (@innoalifa): Head Wordsmith - 111606 pts

    aptly captured

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