something that was

sometimes i do think of him. not yearn for him. sometimes his name plays on the tip of my tongue. i have not heard it out loud for more than three decades now. maybe it is the unfairness of it all that makes my mind travel on the long trip down memory lane; how can someone hurt me so bad, leave such sad memories and not look back, never look back, not even for a fleeting glance. we didn't have much time together, we probably met less than the fingers on both hands. but the pureness of the feeling, the sincerity (which i now realise was purely just mine), the strength of our conviction, the innocence. and then the lies, the wait, the anticipation and the disappointment. how could someone scars another so bad and continue nonchalantly with their lives? how unfair can this world be? he did not even give me a chance to say anything in my defence, he did not give me a chance to say goodbye. for that and for leaving a scar that will always be there, the devil in me wishes that he is living well and happily, as a fat bald man.

and you realise you are more fond of the memories of a person that was than of the person that is. you realise that none of those that you are holding close to your heart, memories of the past or people in your stories, exist in this world or in this dimension anymore, that all and everything has vaporised into nihility, and you are grasping onto nothing