Duby and Cathy

Duby and Cathy
we'd like to think we'd look like this- if we were 'white' ;) ....

Tuesday, August 7, 2012

sunrise and writers; waiting for eternity

In a near empty open cafe somewhere down town I sit. And as I look out the glazed window, I observe the tourists and athletes that walk by. Everyone excited about the olympic games that were soon to start, everyone happy in the spirit of summer. As i watch a young couple at the far end of the cafe glance towards my direction, I wonder if they can hear the pounding  in my heart as I contemplate a certain sadness that would soon be mine- for when the clock strikes 6 it would be exactly a year since Tom had kissed me goodbye in this very cafe.....on this very spot. I look down on the fine wood I am sitting on, remembering how my heart had shattered into a thousand fragments, as I had watched him walk out the open doors and disappear into the crowd outside- having unknowingly taken my life and soul with him and forever leaving me with vivid memories of a past we spent....and the glimpse of a future that could have been ours.

Everything around me screamed his name, everything from the cold cup of coffee in my hand,which had been made exactly how he had liked his, to the subtle scent of the cologne that I could still smell on his sweater that I had on. even the way the man on the opposite table smiled at the waitress, reminded me of him- always a charmer, forever a gentleman. In many ways the the cold coffee in my hand was warmer that the chill in my spine and the pain in my heart. I still love you, I thought to myself. even after everything I still love you and I would race time if that is what it took to see you again.but I also new that this was impossible; a dream of a wish that was inconceivable- and a past that was irredeemable. 

The strangers around me whistle past and I feel the still hot summer kiss my cheeks, as if in an effort to provide comfort and restore the warmth to my soul. But they only succeed in making me more aware of my sadness and this new loneliness that was both alien and invasive. just then the clock strikes six and I involuntarily turn back to stare at the entrance, half expecting to see Tom himself strolling towards me, letting me know that it had never happened and he had never left. With a mixture of disappointment and grief, the tears slide down slowly but surely and i reach for the hem of my sleeves as if to serve as a brake to the tears. But now it has dawned on me....Tom is gone forever.

Duby.