I took awhile, standing there at the corner of the street overlooking his place, one Saturday night. Texting him that I was standing just below the light post was not an option anymore. Not anymore.
After ten minutes or so, I began walking the long road back to my place. We used to love doing this together – me and him. I didn’t bother taking a jeep, just so I could slowly drown myself in my thoughts, and to let the idea sink in, that I may probably not see him in person again.
I walked along all the side streets that we used to walk on. Only this time, I was the only one walking myself home. I recall the jokes, the teasing, the surprise kisses in the dark side of the street. His hands that held mine. All that’s left are my hands that clasped each other to fend off the cold.
Maybe I never should have tried. But then again, I was always the hoping type.