I somehow absolutely hate “take care” messages, especially from ones who actually matter to me. I don’t know why. Maybe because it creates a distance or gives the apparent notion of distance.
Sitting on the rooftop, with a bunch of notes, the stark sun scorched me. Carelessly glancing through them, I had my mind elsewhere. As the sweat beads formed and dropped silently, I stared at the Latin and Greek sentences which would be the key to my exams tomorrow. I knew nothing.
The day had not been going right. Well to be honest, it had been going absolutely incredibly wrong since late last night. Arguments and rude words not withstanding I actually missed a parting “I love you”. You didn’t sleep early last night I presume/assume. I don’t know. I know I didn’t. In fact I only slept at 4 in the morning and woke up at 8.the morning went past. I couldn’t hear a voice, a sound of the voice I so long for. It made me all the more restless. I hoped against myself maybe I could yet. Instead a few texts, some rhetorically formal made its way. I, for once, thought I would wait. The wait isn’t over yet.
As the sun made its way across the horizon paving for a cool evening, I lied down on the dusty rooftop porch. A gentle breeze accelerated into a stronger one. I glanced through the notes, occasionally fiddling with the cell with eager wistful eyes. As the horizon darkened and a good many messages later, with the now pretty strong breeze literally hitting me, I nodded a vain sigh to myself. And I cried. Its been a good many days and months since I last cried. There is a subtle difference I find between breaking down and crying. You break down, and then try to maybe hide your tears. You break down, and then you find consolation. You break down, and calm down soon after. But this time I cried. I was alone. No one could watch me. No one could feel me. I cried. Maybe I howled. Maybe I wailed. When I realized, I could see lights sparkling in the distance. I never wiped the tears. The breeze carried them off.
It has been a horrible last 24 hours for me, probably one of the worst such periods in recent times. I haven’t yet listened to your voice. But yeah, now, I understand not listening to the melody kills me inside, yet I fear this doesn’t set a precedent for days to come. And yet maybe I needed this.