Meursault

We haven’t spoken in a while, I often wonder if we’d be able to pick up where we last left off. How much has changed since our last encounter. How much life has transpired since we said our last goodbyes. I should have stayed loyal to my initially commitments. The transcripts to our banter lost in the recovery of the hard drive I buried so many years ago. An excavation looms over the buried treasure of the relics lost along the way.

Blood stains the depth of my fingertips from the scabs I continue to pick. The tension mounting in lieu of the silence that looms across the room. We sin in starvation of pallets whose flavor tastes taboo. With chosen words so carefully, you hurt me, and in return I will hurt you. The tires continue he to rotate even after the wear and tear. The mileage exceeded the limits on the odometer.

I dwell on the things that I should have let go from now. Regret has always been easier for me.

It’s always so much simpler in retrospect.