It must be the fall’s melancholy taking over me, but I went to sit at our bench, the same one we used to laugh, kiss, caress… and in short where we loved.
That bench on which we were 2 in 1, but this time I am only one consisted of one.
What once was an endless foolish smile has turned into a sad bitter tear, but not as bitter as not knowing how to cry, not being able to be devastated and express my anger, my anxiety, or the lack of understanding… I feel something’s broken inside, unable to be released. I feel not even the tears are flowing the right current… It’s as if I was crying inside out.
On that bench where you tried to make me laugh with bad jokes only the wind remains, which reminds me that you were funny after all.
Sitting together I felt the touch of your hand, your leg, and now just my hand and my leg remain with no caresses. That magical place for us both is now a cold place… beautiful, full of memories, but cold.
Maybe I should go back to that bench so as to cry my eyes out. Maybe I should not go back to that bench in order not to remember things that are no longer beautiful. Maybe I should go back to that bench so that nothing’s the other way around, not even crying.