The following post is a work of fiction. I’ve written this imagining a couple whose relationship is following apart and how hard they’re trying to hold on.
The words I throw at you when I’m ablaze with anger stay with me. They break on my tongue like a glass house and sometimes, I swallow the little pieces and let them pierce my insides. I know I tell you to leave me alone so that I could be one with the darkness but when you walk away, the sound of your feet rattles the ceiling of the house, you and I call home. It sits under the carpet in the living room or inside the drawers where you always forget your wallet. When I look you in the eye and tell you I don’t love you, I’m making a way for you to see how my heart breaks when you hold back that tear and lock yourself in the bathroom. Sometimes, I wake up in the middle of the night and you’re pasted on your side of the bed like a lone traveller waiting for his boat at the other end. I cannot help but mark the inches between us that look like miles. So one day I wait for you to turn around when I am faking a sneeze but you’re glued to the TV and the miles becomes light years that you and I will never be able to travel. I notice it when you’re watching me from the corner of your eye but the spaces between us won’t let you speak so we eat breakfast like kids that we were told to be. I know you’ve been looking after all the promises that you made to me, holding back all the love you wanted me to feel. I know you’ve been writing letters to me and hiding them away so I don’t get to know what’s inside that tough frame of a gentleman who’d do anything to not lose sight of me.