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#2 was it love?
.. and as the moon fades and the sun sores through the orange hues, a new page was unfolding to her story. A new chapter was starting. Perhaps one that was alot less bitter.
⛅⛅
At 10:00 am he finally overcomes the hypnosis of those numbers. He leaves his chair for a glass of water, to get a much desired sleep.
Walking into the dining room, he is tackled by a strange yet nostalgic emptiness.
Although he has gotten used to only detestably bumping into one another, there had always been a presence of someone in his surrounding..
Her presence, which was now completely gone. He follows the missing traces of her beauty products in the living room (what became her seperate living space) to the shampoo and scattered clothes. Now that he is faced with their absence, he can tell there wasn't much. She wasn't taking alot of space in his house. Perhaps that was the reflection of his own heart..
He continues to meander when he is hit with the clarity of his nostalgia, as he remembers the same events happenning nearly a year ago. It was an outburst that cascaded down into nothing.
She will come back.
In the end, they are not only bound by law, they're bound by families, society and an emotional debt.
That was what love had been for him; an emotional investment. Now that it had been sucked up, without reaping any fruits, it became an emotional debt.
The mind of a successful businessman; profit was first, connections came second, sleep came third, then perhaps love would come had it reapt any fruits.
Though he doesn't wish to linger on it, he questions himself if he ever loved?
The memories of her eyes that looked at him with complete awe, adoration and respect. The eyes that spoke more words than any they had shared.
was it love? or a short lived infatuation?
🎆🎆
The same eyes are now ambitiously staring at the biggest set of billboards in the capital city. She watches as they flicker between adverts, from cars to perfume to fashion and beauty. She watches as she recites to herself with resolve that-
- 'for as long as he doesn't care, I have my freedom in one hand and optimism in my heart. I see an uncarved future waiting to be sculptured. I see boundless opportunities..
and for as long as he doesn't care I can find my self, I can delicately make my own self'
.. for as long as he doesn't care..
(to be continued)
© shahrazad
⛅⛅
At 10:00 am he finally overcomes the hypnosis of those numbers. He leaves his chair for a glass of water, to get a much desired sleep.
Walking into the dining room, he is tackled by a strange yet nostalgic emptiness.
Although he has gotten used to only detestably bumping into one another, there had always been a presence of someone in his surrounding..
Her presence, which was now completely gone. He follows the missing traces of her beauty products in the living room (what became her seperate living space) to the shampoo and scattered clothes. Now that he is faced with their absence, he can tell there wasn't much. She wasn't taking alot of space in his house. Perhaps that was the reflection of his own heart..
He continues to meander when he is hit with the clarity of his nostalgia, as he remembers the same events happenning nearly a year ago. It was an outburst that cascaded down into nothing.
She will come back.
In the end, they are not only bound by law, they're bound by families, society and an emotional debt.
That was what love had been for him; an emotional investment. Now that it had been sucked up, without reaping any fruits, it became an emotional debt.
The mind of a successful businessman; profit was first, connections came second, sleep came third, then perhaps love would come had it reapt any fruits.
Though he doesn't wish to linger on it, he questions himself if he ever loved?
The memories of her eyes that looked at him with complete awe, adoration and respect. The eyes that spoke more words than any they had shared.
was it love? or a short lived infatuation?
🎆🎆
The same eyes are now ambitiously staring at the biggest set of billboards in the capital city. She watches as they flicker between adverts, from cars to perfume to fashion and beauty. She watches as she recites to herself with resolve that-
- 'for as long as he doesn't care, I have my freedom in one hand and optimism in my heart. I see an uncarved future waiting to be sculptured. I see boundless opportunities..
and for as long as he doesn't care I can find my self, I can delicately make my own self'
.. for as long as he doesn't care..
(to be continued)
© shahrazad
