Sunday, 9 August 2015

Four Years

Mid-way through our more than usual giggle fit, she abruptly stopped, looked up at the ceiling and said, "My tickets are booked. I leave in two weeks."

The room went eerily quiet as we let the news of her leaving, sink in. It felt as if the walls of the room we shared, were also quivering with fear of abandonment, of being left behind once again. Now the sound of our laughter was nothing more than an echo, resonating the inevitable lack of it. We lay next to each other in silence, struggling to find the right words, knowing it was a useless endeavour. No words could soothe this feeling of dread, of not knowing what the future held.

I rolled up next to her and held her. For a brief moment, it seemed as if my gesture was not to be returned. But then her small, soft arms slowly cradled me and warmed my bones. We held each other tightly, as if we were trying to prevent pieces of us from falling off, trying to prevent us from falling apart. Just like we had for the past four years.