#dearjaan

No clock ticks louder than that of a passed situation in time. Whether a moment you missed grabbing, Or a conversation you wished had ended earlier. Or gone longer. My ticking clock is you. It’s every minute of every day, But especially the end. The arms of the clock race wildly, Just like my heart did As I tried to dull my jagged thoughts into softened words. I wanted nothing more than to protect you from the pain that was already stabbing me from the inside out. No. That’s not true. I wanted you more. Second place isn’t always a winner. Now there are two clocks in my mind One is stuck in that moment. And one is trying too hard to make up for it. It’s beating like a thousand hummingbirds’ wings. It’s beating faster than I can keep up with. It’s beating everything out of me. Everything but the sadness. But the anger. The doubt and confusion. These swim through my veins, poisoning my blood. They laugh at the concept of time; No, they are here to stay. The clocks drag me back to that day. To that hour. To that minute. To that second. To that heart-beat. To that tear. To everything I wish I’d said, But didn’t have time to. They take me back to every tear you didn’t shed. To the relief in your eyes. To the soft, consistent pacing of your breath. To how you thought it was okay to hold my hand while you broke my heart. To how you “didn’t know where to start.” To my realizing you should have said it two months ago. To how you hugged me, And you didn’t feel like you were falling apart. To how you hugged me, And you didn’t feel like you knew I was falling asleep. The clock on my phone says 4:35 AM. The clock at that moment says it’s a minute to the end. The clock inside me says it’s time to cry. I miss you so much. But this… This is “how I’ve been doing lately.” I wonder if you’re glad you asked. I know it’s not the response you were hoping for, But hey, you’re no stranger to that. I wonder if you expected me to say I was fine. Or if you wanted that.

This is a Call-Out Post