dan avila,
I was a breath away from telling you.
My phone beeped. Let’s have lunch tomorrow? Woah, a text a from you. You’re asking me out to lunch? It’s been awhile since we went out for lunch. Ever since you left to work for another office, I saw less and less of you. In the past, you were a fixture of my lunch breaks. I had no qualms asking you to go out and eat. Sometimes, to my glee, you gamely invited me. If we were not eating together, we were ceaselessly exchanging texts while separately sharing lunch with others.
Those were the days… And then, as one day jumped from another to the next, a gulf formed between once close souls. The usual became rare. We were still constantly communicating, but I had this sinking feeling that our link, once thrilling, was becoming imagined, living only in the ephemeral.
Sure, I replied. The goodbye came belatedly. When I saw tears streaming down your face, I knew it was a matter of time. You were going to leave. You don’t know this, but I was never saying goodbye. We were still going to see each other. I had this thought that there was something between us. I cannot exactly pin it down, but that “something” was strong enough to bind me to you, you to me. I was sure of it.
What a fool I was. Your last days were the coldest. I tried to reach out, but you built an invisible wall so formidable I even discouraged myself to scale it. I’m busy, you said. Of course, of course. I begrudgingly let you be. Oftentimes I caught myself staring out into the open, thinking, why are we not having our final moments? One last lunch together as officemates? One last stroll around the environs while revisiting how the two of us found each other?
No, this was not goodbye, I defiantly told myself. But pain was creeping inwards. I tried to rid my mind of the fiendish thought that you owe me even just a fleeting replay of the past. As I let out numerous sighs to ease my difficulties, I gave up. I didn’t want to see you.
Now, here I am, walking to see you, just months after your unceremonious exit. I should not be surprised why you suddenly want to see me. You blow hot and cold on many things. It’s a fascinating trait of yours. I find it funny sometimes that you are so frustrated when someone close to you is like that, but you (maybe unconsciously) do the same way to others. You and your “quirks.”
As I sit across our small table and stare at you, I struggle to listen to your complaints about your new boss. I was then wrestling with this being inside my head nagging me to just tell you how I truly feel. Tell her how hurt you were during her last days, the being implored. Tell her she is an ungrateful, insensitive and dumb automaton. Tell her you’re glad that she’s not walking along the same halls you’re walking. Tell her.
I then retorted, Do I also tell her I miss her so much?!
The being stopped. Suddenly, you blurt out, Hey, are you alright? What’s on your mind? Oh right. You were in front of me. I can tell you right now if I want to. If I want to. I breathe.
Nothing.
Literary (Submission): One Breath Away
I was a breath away from telling you.
My phone beeped. Let’s have lunch tomorrow? Woah, a text a from you. You’re asking me out to lunch? It’s been awhile since we went out for lunch. Ever since you left to work for another office, I saw less and less of you. In the past, you were a fixture of my lunch breaks. I had no qualms asking you to go out and eat. Sometimes, to my glee, you gamely invited me. If we were not eating together, we were ceaselessly exchanging texts while separately sharing lunch with others.
Those were the days… And then, as one day jumped from another to the next, a gulf formed between once close souls. The usual became rare. We were still constantly communicating, but I had this sinking feeling that our link, once thrilling, was becoming imagined, living only in the ephemeral.
Sure, I replied. The goodbye came belatedly. When I saw tears streaming down your face, I knew it was a matter of time. You were going to leave. You don’t know this, but I was never saying goodbye. We were still going to see each other. I had this thought that there was something between us. I cannot exactly pin it down, but that “something” was strong enough to bind me to you, you to me. I was sure of it.
What a fool I was. Your last days were the coldest. I tried to reach out, but you built an invisible wall so formidable I even discouraged myself to scale it. I’m busy, you said. Of course, of course. I begrudgingly let you be. Oftentimes I caught myself staring out into the open, thinking, why are we not having our final moments? One last lunch together as officemates? One last stroll around the environs while revisiting how the two of us found each other?
No, this was not goodbye, I defiantly told myself. But pain was creeping inwards. I tried to rid my mind of the fiendish thought that you owe me even just a fleeting replay of the past. As I let out numerous sighs to ease my difficulties, I gave up. I didn’t want to see you.
Now, here I am, walking to see you, just months after your unceremonious exit. I should not be surprised why you suddenly want to see me. You blow hot and cold on many things. It’s a fascinating trait of yours. I find it funny sometimes that you are so frustrated when someone close to you is like that, but you (maybe unconsciously) do the same way to others. You and your “quirks.”
As I sit across our small table and stare at you, I struggle to listen to your complaints about your new boss. I was then wrestling with this being inside my head nagging me to just tell you how I truly feel. Tell her how hurt you were during her last days, the being implored. Tell her she is an ungrateful, insensitive and dumb automaton. Tell her you’re glad that she’s not walking along the same halls you’re walking. Tell her.
I then retorted, Do I also tell her I miss her so much?!
The being stopped. Suddenly, you blurt out, Hey, are you alright? What’s on your mind? Oh right. You were in front of me. I can tell you right now if I want to. If I want to. I breathe.
Nothing.
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