The Art of Forgetting.
I want to trash him so bad. Facts have it that, I already did.
But after I successfully lose consciousness of him, he gets featured in my dream.
In these dreams, he’s always coming to me still unrepentant and I find myself wondering;
“Why have you come?
If you’re not willing to repent, why did you come then?”
Sometimes I find us arguing, other times, we manage polite civility.
We didn’t necessarily fight in reality or “fall apart”.
Nothing that dramatic.
Atleast not that I know of.
Trust me, I have tried. I have reached out over and over again.
Nothing.
Maybe there really is nothing. Just the Nonchalance of fingers, oiled to lose grip of my hand.
Today I woke up from another of that dream.
I picked up my phone and sent a text.
Not that I wanted to… “subconscious” is the word yeah?
“Hey Johnnn”
Anyway, I juat saw that I did. Repeating the last letter of his name three times.
I know the response so, for fun I type it in my chat box and wait for it to drop.
It drops and I nod in satisfaction as every letter corresponds with the words I’d written.
Heyyyyyy Zikoraaaaaa
I nod in satisfaction and close the chat.
I can see it now, it’s a pattern. But I don’t even bother to ask God why.
I just continue my life as I await his next visit. “Dear John, see you next time.”
