Your Senses

I am scared. I am scared for all the memories that have been made and for all the memories yet to be created. I am scared you will not be there. Scared that for every one memory you missed out means taking a little piece of my soul. I am not prepared for this. I am not prepared for you to wander out there, while I am stuck in my place wondering.

My eyes see only pictures of the future with you in it. Now that you might be away, I would be half blind. So before you go, leave me one of your eyes, for the hope I still want to see. Leave a jar of breath, for every time I want to hear your whispers. Leave a hair strand, for every time I am longing for your distinct smell. Now, down to the last one, thinking what would I do if I ever longed for your touch?

Suddenly, it felt like a train hit me. I realized you couldn’t leave. Let me take back everything I have said.

Do not leave one of your eyes, for you see the world better than I do. Do not leave a jar of breath, for you do not need to whisper because you always express words better when it is out loud. Do not leave a strand of your hair, for each strand represents little efforts that you did, which made you whole as a person.

Let me be selfish. Do not leave. Just please don’t.

Like what you read? Give lunawonders a round of applause.

From a quick cheer to a standing ovation, clap to show how much you enjoyed this story.