To be Continued
and she was gone. he couldn’t imagine the pain he would have felt if he had done the opposite but this pain, his current pain, led him to believe that he had made a mistake. he had made several mistakes, he was sure, but this current experience was yet to be classified. he mourned his loss and moped about and despite his foolproof decision he was so unsure of himself. To move past the pain he distracted himself with obscure music that might not lend him a message on which to feed his depression. the music had a mood and the mood was unclear so he fed himself notes and tunes which did not matter. Not much mattered to him. He was the type of hopeless who could not see light through the thick lenses his depression lent him. and so he tried to reach out. First to people and then to the inanimate. The drugs would distract him or depress him but he flipped that coin daily. and when left with not a bill nor a coin to flip he was lost. he had floated too far out to sea. and he was so soaked in the salt. so tangled in seaweed that he had forgotten what it was like to feel the sand beneath his feet or the gravity at his knees. Remnants if her scent lingered like the scratches and paint chips of a tight hallway damaged by the incoming occupants. That connectedness eluded him. That wholeness was gone. He sought only to come to terms with the truth. But the truth itself is what he had battled for weeks. ceding to the truth had seemed like the union forfeiting to the confederacy for so long that he had disregarded it in his mind as an impossibility. But now he held his flag without the strength to raise it above his head. Conquered and imprisoned by his own decisions and cursed by his own spell. He waited for someone to lift the chains. To emancipate his happiness which had been held by another for so long. A liberator with bright eyes and a brighter smile. If she’d find him amongst the rough, downtrodden and helpless, was to be discovered but he breathed slowly in hopes that one the the shackles would be unlocked. or that there even existed a keyhole. That hope is all he has.
