A lost version

DEAR ME,

Didn't the girl in front of the line at the Gola counter sound just like her. you still remember the sound of her voice and the way she used to twitch her eyebrows when she joked about something she thought was funny. No, you don't miss her all the time but something is always missing from you. Something knots itself inside your stomach whenever you hear her name. Or her favourite song. Or when you see someone wearing her favourite colour t-shirt.

It's been quite a long time since you last saw her. It killed you, how happy she looked that day, on your birthday, laughing out loudly. you still remember how she curled her mouth, very slightly, to the left side when she just began to become annoyed. How her hair was slightly twisted at the ends, that day, when she slept longer than usual. And how the tiny, otherwise unrecognizable blush creep up on her cheeks when someone gave her a compliment. You still remember how her nose scrunched up in disaster whenever she saw that guy she thoroughly disliked.

You say that you never liked rains. Because every time it rains, you sit by the window, listen to the sound of the rain falling to the ground and wonder where she might be, what sound she might be listening to, him or the rain. You say that you never liked thunderstorms. Because every time it sounds, you lay on the bed and hide yourself under the bedsheet, you grab her with all the forces in a hope that she is with you. But dear, it was only the pillow and in the darkness you see the reality and wonder what she might be apprehend to, him or…….….

Don't you ever wonder why the smell of the perfume she always had on her, makes you go a little weak in the knees? And on some days it almost feels like she never left. Like she would step out of the shower anytime and ask you to pick out her suit and jeans for the day. Like you would find her sleeping next to you, late at night, her chest rising and falling in perfect rhythm, like your favourite song.

Every time your phone rings, or you hear footsteps on your door, just like her, something doused with hope, pain, and above all, love, beings to rise inside of you. And you wonder why even the thought of her, somewhere in the middle of the same city but inside a different world, makes your vision blurred, your stomach drop and your smile aborted…

FROM,

THE LOST VERSION OF YOU