Spiral

If I had to imagine the shape of our imperfect love story, it would be a spiral. You know the ones that start from a single point and roam around in many little circles, round and round till your head spins. It’s funny how it all begins from one tiny interaction, one sudden eye contact, one unintentional bump of a shoulder or a whip of your head when you hear that voice you really liked. But our case was different, wasn’t it? We met, yet acted like we didn’t, small talk with loads of sneaky glances. A secretive smile we kept to ourselves, never dared to share with each other, thinking the thrill in this anonymity would end.

We wrote letters when we fought and sent songs when words were never enough to express our feelings. The silence was so comforting, just us, our hands entwined looking at the horizon. We watched the moon dance in twilight and the sun rising up from its deep slumber. The birds were familiar to our presence and tweeted a friendly hello while the owl hooted more with its wide watchful eyes.

Friends tried to know the secret of what made us tick and how do we do it. But we had no clue what to answer, so we ignored it. I didn’t give much thought into the future of us and you …. you just said forget all that and go with the flow.

Staying in love was one thing, moving ahead was another. We kept our own pace, stumbling upon rocks of disappointment, argument and misunderstandings. Things started to fall out and we started drifting apart before we even knew it. I took off your cheap dollar store ring so many times that I lost count. I would thrust it into the palm of your hand yelling “it’s over!”

Three days later you knocked on my door, telling me, we should talk it out, but didn’t you know? We never talk, just exchange glances that carry different meanings at different times. We should have called it “the sign language for the dumb people in love who can actually talk”. A bit long but you knew I was right.

We fought again, this time it was meant to be for.. we were arguing why did we even make up since we are going to breakup once again. Why couldn’t we just let go and settle down with someone easier, less complicated and one who actually opened his mouth and talked?

With and without each other, we were happily miserable. You bought me a dozen pajamas but I still wore your shirt to bed and you still did not wash dishes on the weekend even after I beat you in a game of chess.

You forgot my birthday and trust me it didn’t hurt that much. Well, it did a little bit but it escalated when you remembered to pay the plumber you owed 12 freaking dollars, an account two months old. We officially broke up the next day and I was happy to be free from further entanglement.

So that’s it. We are done. No more moving round in circles. Spirals. Whatever shape it is. By the way, I’ve changed the locks to my front porch.

Come and meet me through the back door.

GREG RAKOZY FFION EVANS

One Comment Add yours

  1. nida@wordfrappe says:

    I enjoyed reading your post. And just when I thought you were really done, your words “By the way, I’ve changed the locks to my front porch. Come and meet me through the back door.” added a new twist of hope and continuity. Cheers! 🙂

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