The light post has never been this dim before. As if it is running out of light.
Mimicking the night, it barely shone, its glimmer before faded, with the lonely starless sky. With no more reason to shine, with no one left to shed light on to.
“I swear this will be the last”, this I say continuously in my head, convincing myself with such an obvious rigid lie. I’m losing pathetically, I know that yet I didn’t stop misleading myself. Hoping that I will brainwash myself into believing what I say. Why am I such a terrible liar? Why do I even bother to lie to myself that you are not affecting me anymore? Why do I make-believe that I am better off like this?
Melancholic melody started playing in my head as I stand alone on the dim-lighted barren street. Both ends of the road, beyond my extremities entail no sign of life or even a hint of other presences, just mine, mine alone. I wonder if this is what they call “solitude” or is this loneliness, which I feel. Tonight I can clearly hear myself without any disturbances from the obnoxiously noisy sound of the city. Yet with this deafening silence, I am now feeling apprehension. This is not good, not good at all. Nostalgia kicked in and flashbacks ran across my face like movies in fast forward, too fast now, becoming a blur. And all those infatuating days of the yesterdays senselessly consumed my being, I cannot retaliate. It’s as if I have tasted once again the sweetness of love and felt once again the eddies of ecstasy.
I remembered the nights I spent under this light post . With a wooden bench beneath it, now long gone, there I found something that now I have lost.
When the sun sets I ready myself, when the night falls, I ran to you with my dress fluttering with the wind and my shoes quickly chase pavements. As I arrive, I look at you, at those eyes so deep sending me unyielding messages of love. With the world against us, this secret place was a paradise, this street was our escape away from those disparaging eyes and treacherous tongues. Our love was real, I am certain that mine was, but it seemed to be a humorous tragedy to the world. It was not a love of affliction, it was just a love transpired at a wrong chance. “How can I trade such love for a world so judgingly wrong?” And so I spent every night with you under the starry night with the moon glowing upon us, those short moments felt like eternities chasing forever. We whisper to one another our dreams and wish them foolishly to the shooting stars. In your eyes I found my home, with you I want to spend my life with.
Love is complicated and foolish when we are young, deceiving in some point. Those comments of the world were foreshadowings.
The arid pavement, as it is supposed to be, had become my place of refuge as I sit on it with my back adjacent to the post light. Cool breezes now are turning cold, giving me chills and uneasiness with a pinch of discomfort. I may blame this vexing feeling to the night, but maybe to myself more, because warmth is waiting for me just short miles from here. The endless night sky had now become deeper and appearing to be darker in shade of indigo. No stars tonight in sight, the moon camouflages but had failed with its thin outline showing. Clouds roll by slowly, highlighted with silver linings. The night prolonged more and it felt like it will never end.
I stood up. Sense finally came and had fiercely awakened me from this abyss of irrational reverie. I looked up, wipe my face with my jacket sleeves and stared for the last time at the fading yellow light. I fasten with it those memories with you that my heart had memorized for years. Oblivion.
As I walked away from the light post, it went off, a new source of light peeks from the horizon. “May this be the last time I came by this street.”, I murmured.
