Fiction is not my forte. Do you have something to say to me? is only my third fiction out of the 89 posts so far. So be kind. haha. I was listening to this playlist when I wrote, so some parts may be cheesy when you read it but it sounded awesome when I wrote it :P :)
“Do you have something to say to me?” I asked her, completely knowing what the response will be. She stared at me, with those light brown eyes I had so often lost myself in. “What do you think?” she said, after struggling for a while to find the right words. I had rehearsed this conversation in my head for over seventy two hours now; that last Friday, at the club, she had done everything she could to tell me what she wanted to, without actually saying anything.
Despite those seventy two hours to acknowledge the impending pain, despite having cried over the phone for hours that weekend to my closest friends, despite knowing that a little over three months was all it ever had been, my eyes welled up as I asked, “What about us?”
Sunshine reflected off the mirror work on her green top and on to my blue shirt. “Alex,…” She moved closer. Her perfume triggered an explosion of memories. I was no longer in the lift lobby; I was outside her door, hugging her for the first time after walking her home… inside her bedroom, a small peck at first, waiting for her reaction and then kissing like there was no tomorrow… at malls, shopping together, watching movies… at the swing beneath her building, talking for hours, till 1… till 2 in the morning.
“Alex… we have nothing in common…”
She spoke for a few minutes. Something within me started collapsing; my chest weighed a ton.
“…We can still be the friends. I still care about you. A lot…”
I could feel my heart beat against my chest with a ton of force. I held the wall beside me to help me continue to stand.
“…Besides, it was just three meaningless months…”
Listening to her say that broke me. It broke me like nothing had in my twenty four years of being alive. Pain and disgust and a million other emotions erupted within me all at once. I felt so cold, so numb, with the only warmth being provided by the tears running down my cheeks.
I did not know how to react. I walked away, past the lifts, past the office door, and turned left to enter the stairwell.
I ran down four flights and found a deserted corner in the basement. I sat down for a long time. I cried. I cried like never before. “You knew this for three days, why are you still so… unprepared,” I asked myself out loud between sobs. I rested my head on the headlights of the car beside me, my back against the wall and my arms holding my legs. I do not remember how long tears rolled down my cheeks, onto the headlights and down to the ground.
Featured image: Taken by me at Breswana Village, Doda, Jammu & Kashmir, 2012.