The one that got away

Tobechukwu Hubert
Nov 6 · 2 min read

The view is perfect. From my seat at this window, I see the precious tears of heaven cleanse the earth; this cleansing leaves me shivering. A cup of hot steaming tea and the warmth of my sweater comfort me. On my ear pod, I surrender myself to the soothing voice of Katy Perry, as she sings “The one that got away.”

Nostalgia pays me a visit. She suggests a game to pass time. She picks one called “memories.” In this game, you pick your favorite memory of someone and talk about it. She knows this and wants to taunt me. I am going first, she says eagerly, “Tell me your favorite memory of her”. I know who she’s talking about. She knows that I know. So, she smiles.

Memories flood my mind like an overflowing river bank. My favorite; you and I seated in the library which has become our rendezvous, shielding us from preying eyes. Our lips find each other in the dark, our hands hungrily exploring our bodies. We give in to our pleasures and lay down with our hands enclasped. Suddenly, you look at me with those crystal eyes and tell me this is the end. That this, you and I, are ill-fated. With that, you get up and leave.

“You have got a tear running down your eyes,” says Nostalgia. I brush off the tears and smile faintly. But she has already seen it. “Was she really the one that got away?” She asked. I know the answer.

Three years later, I am seated in this place of worded pages, at this window were as teenage lovers, we engraved our names. I am here sipping a cup of tea and asking myself, how you became the one that got away.

Tobechukwu Hubert

Written by

Humanist, Lazy Poet, Bibliophile

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