And when it’s almost time, the cruel time, that I knew would eventually arrive, now or tomorrow, I will be smiling at it.
Right after I am done crying everything out of my heart.
I am not going to thank it for all the good things I experienced, how they say they’d do. Or how you said one should. I am going to be pissed of at it.
Fucking time!
It had to win every single battle. It had to show that nothing ever lasts. Nothing shall ever remain the same. Flowers wither and turn to soil. Books are done and shoved into some corner. Kisses are forgotten. Sex ends up becoming something mechanical, and later needing a break from. Love fades away somewhere so far as though it never was there. And conversations, the singlemost entity I would still trust and hold onto when everything else falls apart, start to make no meaning.
And maybe some would drive along even then, with faithless hopes and hopeless faith that there might still be some chances. But I am the kind to fall in love. The kind who would give you everything. Untouched from baseless hopes and faith. And would walk away when it’s done. That’s where I stop.
So, when it’s almost time, the cruel time that I knew would eventually arrive, now or tomorrow,
I will be cursing at it once again and for a lifetime.
Because I thought you were the one.
I knew you were the one.
Yet here we are, walking away.
Like everything else.