What Used to Be
The excitement I am feeling right now is overwhelming that each step I take, I feel like I am flying. You’ve been away for a long a while and tonight, you are coming back. You are coming home— to me.
When I reached home, the lights are already on. It seems you came before me. As I saunter inside, the noise of the television greets me. I feel my lips curving upwards as my gaze landed on your form, sitting on our small couch as you watch a replay of some comedy show.
“I’m home.” I heard myself saying. As if in a trance, you snapped and when you looked at me, the smile I am wearing widens. I miss you. I miss you so much.
I felt myself being lifted off the floor and spun in the air. I felt a little dizzy but when your arms wrapped around me, warmth filled my heart and a contented sigh escaped my lips. You leaned down, as if to kiss me and my eyes fluttered on their own.
But instead of a kiss, I was met with cold. My eyes flew open and I was surprised to find myself inside my dim room, on my bed— alone.
My lips quiver. It was just a dream, a memory I try so hard to hold.
My arms wrapped around me as I pull my legs to my chest. Every night, I find myself crying; crying for a lost love, because you and I are no more. You have found another while I was left to myself.
After the rain comes the sun. But why is my rain never stops pouring?