Wish I said it sooner...

“It was as usual of a day; I woke up and headed to my work as usual. Got some stuff done at the office and finished my university assignments. I was quite proud of myself. Until.

I was walking the same path, reminded of you. Those giggles echoed in my ears. Your smile burnt an image so unforgettable in my eyes. The park bench is empty where we once hung out. Everything is so empty with you gone.

I couldn’t sleep. I rolled around in the bed and tried a glass of wine or two, but I couldn’t.

I just couldn’t help but call you here. So, tell me about your days?”

 

“They are quite alright,” she replied.

“I’m just sorry.”

“For what?” She asked.

“Everything. You were right, you know? I was indeed a brat.”

“Oh please, I said that in anger. I didn’t mean it.”

“Well, it was true.”

“K...” she sighed.

“I remember everything, the way I saw it back then was just biased. I felt angry, a victim of injustice. I was selfish, self-centred, straight up an asshole, to you and them.”

“It’s in the past, K.”

“I shouldn’t have said what I said.”

“I was equally wrong don’t you see. I said, talk to a wall when all you needed was an ear to listen.”

“I was just hungry for attention. I still have that complex.”

 

“What happened?” I asked

“Nothing, it’s funny how we regret things we cannot fix. I was the catalyst for your traumas, I never realized.”

“You weren’t.”

We paused.

“You see, you were my happiest memory. As a child, I never seemed to fit in anywhere. As a teen, I never liked people, let alone myself. Then one day, you come along, and I felt an affinity towards you.” I said.

“You had a crush.” She finished.

“Indeed. I was confused, misguided, and volatile. I burst into anger at random. I just closed myself too much.”

 

“I’m sorry”, she added.

“No don’t be. I created my prison. I was so afraid I'll get hurt that I kept lying.”

“It’s not about that.”

“I know, the last time I confessed.”

“...It’s my fault my reply wasn’t satisfactory. The thing is I don’t know what to say.”

“Then say it now. I’ll at least set me free.”

“... I ...”

Silence.

 

“Sir, would you like to order something?” The server asked me.

“No, I’m fine.”

She was just in my head. Yet again, I made her look like the bad guy.

 

A cruel cliffhanger life has left me on. I never got an answer, nor do I wish to know. Yet I seek closure. The paradox of all my trauma is me.