“Ever has it been that love knows not its own depth until the hour of separation.”
― Kahlil Gibran
How do you tell that person that lingers in your every thought a few simple words?
I saw him. The man who wishes to speak.
A cold stare in a mirror, trying to let it all go. He watches the tears leave his cheek and hit the old basin where his beard shavings reside. Tears in a suit are usually reserved for funerals, but this is just the start of his day. His work day, the only thing he holds dear.
He is dying to tell the story of the girl that believed in him. The girl he believed in. The once notable notion of what he thinks was true, but the sheer feeling of happiness is long forgotten and much like love, he feels it was all a cruel dream. A life he once cherished, now a burden to bare.
He is living a life he knows shouldn't be his.
This is not him. He has spent so much time on a love that clearly wasn't his.
The lines on his face may disappear with a single smile.
A real smile. A phrase he no longer knows, much like the emotion's sign. Being the guy before the right one comes along wasn't something he planned in this journey.
A broken person in this mirror. He occasionally feels some excitement for what may be fun, what may be her music. Cold reality comes creeping in. This is not right, he says. This is not me, he thinks.
He falls to his knees, in the back of his mind he is slightly worried about dirtying his suit pants. He knows not why.
Living has become somewhat a chore. He looks for paper and pen to write the letter they need to read. He has no interventions and no shinning suns. Hands are shaking and the words just can't find the paper. If he does this he will hurt his mother and... he stops and thinks. He can't think of anyone else who will be truly affected by his departure. This life is a disaster and it stings.
He composes himself and realises he must go on. The White Pony runs through him and calms his nerves. One more digital bath and the change will happen.
The reflection gathers momentum and takes his thoughts. It reminds him of how excited he was to see her. It reminds him of her silly faces and beautiful eyes. He thinks of the last time he saw her out the front of his parents' home. It was not a goodbye.
He wanted to thank her. She brought joy into his hollow life. A love that was unmatched and memories that he will cherish forever.
As time passed the fact that the time neared that he had to let her go was bigger than he thought. The closure for him was evident but also very final. His reflection spoke again.
It said the truth he has avoided.
You had the chance to truly love. You felt something many people dream about. Open your eyes to everything that doesn't involve love and find comfort in solitude.
It's time to be alone and die alone.
The writing was always on the wall, time to choose to see it.