Like the sands slipping through the spaces between the fingers, I never realized when you slipped away from my stratosphere. Standing on the threshold of this transition, contemplating myself, I am counting my tears and summing up my smiles.
Like a free-fall, I was descending, happy and terrified at the same time; I let myself fall, fall for you. I spiraled in between the loops you threw me in. Keeping my apprehensions at bay; those transcendent eyes lied every time I questioned them.
In this fight between the “me” on my side and the “me” on your side, wanting the latter to win, I didn’t even realize when you left and I was all alone, fighting with myself. How hysterical is it that we start believing someone more than ourselves, building up a wobbling sandcastle on their shoulder and they suddenly shrug their shoulders, and there we stand questioning our existence! It lends me into laughter.
With every piece of you slipping from my hands, the “old me” asks for a departure. I have no right to allow or stop it. After all “the old me” was a symbiotic relationship between us that turned out to be parasitic somehow.
I turn around to 2021 and nothing excites me. Holding this sack of half a smile and tons of tears, I don’t want to rejoice much. I don’t want to mourn either. Not all clouds bring rain, some are meant to destroy you from outside and within.
Bye 2020.