It has been 7 years not seeing you again, maybe you’re out there falling in love with someone else. I might spend my time mumbling about random things to you if you let me, but I don’t want to waste your time because we might not see each other again.
Do I miss you?
I remember the day I sent you a stupid piece of writing I took from “10 Things I Hate About You”. You asked me “what’s wrong with my shoes?” and I said that I just hated the way you wore your big red boots because I loved seeing you in sneakers instead.
Do you remember when we called each other every night no matter how many times we met during the day? Or when you called me while I was pissed because we were faraway from each other and you started to tell a dog’s love story to cheer me up? Do you remember the day I called you just to tell how my day was even though we had lunch together in the same day?
I remember the time when I drove at night to your flat when I suddenly missed you with no reason. Even we had to keep it silent because I might wake your roommate for being too loud and over excited while hugging you when I arrived. Later we talked about secrets and we kissed in a dark. We fell asleep in your bed with my clothes on because we felt the intimacy created from a deep talk not sexual intercourse. From the first night to many many nights after, with deeper talk and ugly tees we wore.
I also reckon the moment when you drove for three hours just to have lunch and dinner with me on Sunday. Then I suggested you a weird place to hang out because I ran off the idea. We still enjoyed that between kebab and stupid conversations.
Do you remember when we went out for some ice creams during the exam week? When you taught me one subject that I nailed it with higher score than you got? Or the day we studied together in the same ice cream shop but ended up talking about random stuffs again?
But then I walked away, I pushed you away before you left me and took me for granted. I didn’t know why I chose to believe it. I never wanted to be the last one in pain, nor the last one who waited the story crumbling by itself. I wanted to be selfish because it avoided me from losing more of your kindness and memories of us.
Do I miss you?
Not even close, not even a little bit, not even at all.
From: “An Ode Of Memories” (2014) with moderation.