There's an emptiness there.
It's deep inside, where I thought I'd almost forgotten about. And it's so big, so dark, so empty and bottomless, that somehow I just know it's because of you. It's 6 pm as I write this....8 am over there. Now look what you've done....the thought of you has gone and made me cry. For shame. Shame for making me miss you. Shame for making me love you. Shame for making me know that you're missing me at the exact second as I'm missing you. I don't know how I know this. I just know. I just KNOW.
And it hurts. It hurts so bad it's like I'm feeling your pain even though you're 18 hours away. It hurts as bad as that night you sang to me. The moon was high, the sky was clear for the first time since I'd arrived and the stars were twinkling and I could hear frogs croaking, and none of it really seemed to matter because all that existed for me was the fact that you were singing and I knew in that moment that I could fall in love again.
It's like that feeling I got that I might've been too late, that you might've been called out. But it's different. Nothing could ever be as bad as having that feeling of maybe being too late and having to live with it forever. Nothing, not ever.
Remember when we met at Ong Pra? And then we took a motorcycle taxi to Big C and watched a movie. And the last meal I ever ate with you- yentafo, with wide rice noodles. I couldn't figure out why, now, the taste of ketchup makes me feel so sad, until I found out that yentafo soup has a ketchup base. The smell of vinegar(chilli vinegar, poured into noodle soup in a sterile-white food court) also makes me feel vaguely sad and nostalgic. Makes me think of you. Makes me think of how I madeyou laugh, not that polite little laugh but really laugh, how I could see it crinkling your eyelids and opening up some dusty, rusted old door inside you. That's how I remember you. In that laugh. That smile.
It hurt, that last time I ever saw you. That one last time together. Felt like I was being stretched, like I could actually feel myself being torn away from you. That one last time together.
The look in your eyes that I knew you could also see in my eyes....that both of us were wishing I didn't have to go.
It's deep inside, where I thought I'd almost forgotten about. And it's so big, so dark, so empty and bottomless, that somehow I just know it's because of you. It's 6 pm as I write this....8 am over there. Now look what you've done....the thought of you has gone and made me cry. For shame. Shame for making me miss you. Shame for making me love you. Shame for making me know that you're missing me at the exact second as I'm missing you. I don't know how I know this. I just know. I just KNOW.
And it hurts. It hurts so bad it's like I'm feeling your pain even though you're 18 hours away. It hurts as bad as that night you sang to me. The moon was high, the sky was clear for the first time since I'd arrived and the stars were twinkling and I could hear frogs croaking, and none of it really seemed to matter because all that existed for me was the fact that you were singing and I knew in that moment that I could fall in love again.
It's like that feeling I got that I might've been too late, that you might've been called out. But it's different. Nothing could ever be as bad as having that feeling of maybe being too late and having to live with it forever. Nothing, not ever.
Remember when we met at Ong Pra? And then we took a motorcycle taxi to Big C and watched a movie. And the last meal I ever ate with you- yentafo, with wide rice noodles. I couldn't figure out why, now, the taste of ketchup makes me feel so sad, until I found out that yentafo soup has a ketchup base. The smell of vinegar(chilli vinegar, poured into noodle soup in a sterile-white food court) also makes me feel vaguely sad and nostalgic. Makes me think of you. Makes me think of how I madeyou laugh, not that polite little laugh but really laugh, how I could see it crinkling your eyelids and opening up some dusty, rusted old door inside you. That's how I remember you. In that laugh. That smile.
It hurt, that last time I ever saw you. That one last time together. Felt like I was being stretched, like I could actually feel myself being torn away from you. That one last time together.
The look in your eyes that I knew you could also see in my eyes....that both of us were wishing I didn't have to go.
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