Wearing my slippers at the balcony and staring into the horizon…I wonder whether it’s true that everyone is in control of their destiny. I sip on vodka in the glass and gulp slowly…feeling it slowly stream down my throat.
What if we will never see each other again?
What if we forget to meet at Chicken Inn or KFC or our favorite cafe in the heart of the street?
If we forget the future we can still make it up to ourselves. We can get creative and build it with our hands, you know, like use clay, or carve a statue out of wood like we used to do in Art and Craft.
But what if we forget the past? What if our memories become ashes and the next time we see each other we don’t feel anything at all?
I do not want to feel nothing for you. I can’t even imagine you as a stranger. I can’t imagine walking by you indifferently; not holding hands as we’re used to.
I do not want to think that we will eventually ignore each other because there’s nothing worst than ignorance. What if all those precious memories we created go down like a house consumed by fire?
What will remain of us is just ash and melancholy. I do not want our love to become apathy. We were us. We were special, so alive together.
I’d become lifeless without you.
Okay I know what you’re thinking and yes, I have three hundred and fifty fears, but oblivion is my deepest one. Nothing like forgetting us attacks my lungs so unforgivingly.
I do not want to forget our moments of escape in paradise.
I do not want to forget all the pictures we took together. I delete some from my gallery but they keep on regenerating, why?
We had a reason to be so perfect at such an inconvenient time. And I do not want to let it go as I envisaged the best coming out of it. I am not ready to disregard my intensity of our short, vivid instants.
I am afraid to forget your sweet mellow voice and that you will forget mine.
I am afraid to forget the fervor I saw in your eyes when we met.
I am afraid to forget your sense of humor and hearty laughters.
I am afraid to forget our love.
I am afraid to forget the pace of our love, your smooth hands caressing me, goofy faces, wagging your tongue at me at a distant when we in public, and the quick glances we used to exchange only after a few hours after not seeing each other.
I am afraid to forget the late night and early morning conversations over the phone.
I am afraid to forget the cosy and comforting feeling of sleeping and waking up with your warm tender body wrapped in mine.
I am afraid to forget how intimate we can get.
I am afraid to forget that I said I’d be loyal and only belong to you.
I am afraid to forget all the songs we played and listened together and the fights of who was playing the next one.
I am afraid to forget all our first times.
I am afraid of how dolorous our goodbye has been.
I am afraid to forget how liquor tasted so better when we had it together.
I am afraid to lose myself as I lose memories.
I do not want to forget how the intensity of our love made me feel alive again.
I want to remember. I want to be able to recall those instances that made me fall in love even when we were gone.
Even when the pain is too much to bear, I want to feel you one more time.
But again, maybe I’m lost in my world alone, dreaming.