A Year Ago On The Same Street (Continued)

Walking away never does help. Running away from himself he was preparing himself for more pain. Like a silent volcano before an eruption, he had bottled everything up after he had walked away that fateful day.

Her messages never stopped coming. Crushing away his fears only to find himself on the brim of tears again. There was no choice but to remain by her side and watch her being supported by someone else. He finally gave in.

He called her. Apologizing for his behaviour, he hoped she wouldn’t ask for an explanation. He didn’t have the courage to endure it again. She said she wouldn’t. With a heavy heart he spoke to her, doing his best to hide. The faint crack of emotion in his voice, as she spoke about who she loved and in every second sentence reminding him. That he was special to her. Just not as special.

Ending the call he sank into his chair. He was exhausted. His eyelids heavy with sleep dreamt of what could have been. She sounded happy and maybe, what could have been wouldn’t be as great as what she had now. He sighed heavily and gave up trying to fight sleep. There was nothing left but hopeless dreams of undying love. Leaving gaps in all the places she had been.

The escape from the street had driven him down alleys. With dead ends leading him back to where he didn’t want to be. The place where she had placed him. Like a battered ship during a tempest, he kept afloat. Only for the lone survivor who controlled his wreckage from its helm.

Show your support

Clapping shows how much you appreciated Babar Mir’s story.