Love · Teenage blues

The Departure

I have never heard him walk so slow. The noise of his steps grow. Strange fits of passion have I known that rush back to my memory. He’s never been so hesitant before my front door. I wonder what the matter could be? We haven’t met since months 3!
I wonder about the absence of joy and scan through the possibilities.
The door cracks open and I see his lovely face.

But it melts my heart to see the winter dry. The teary eyes as the departure is declared. He is going away, far away. Into the world which gives him way. No emotions. He says its a decision. The news ends here and so does our last meeting. His perfume lingers in the air, waiting for me to acknowledge his presence and get used to his absence, as he walks out my sad grey door, which will now, no longer be his shore..

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