I could not let my loved ones know about my whereabouts as to see me and to think of me is to bring on blood and flesh in their happy life. I still can see happy people through my forlorn eyes but the happiness that I see burns me alive so I divert my glance on something imaginary, a world where I can undo my erroneous past. A past which still imprisons me, silencing my freedom of thought and the sovereign right to claim happiness like others, once you have been an prisoner of your past no matter how audaciously one struggles the poison in the covered wound is going to send out it power to remind you it’s still there and your are still its captive.

I could smile at silly things, I had a place to go to when I was tired, I knew where I belonged. There was happiness and that happiness allowed me to dream, dream which could make one hopeful, at some points encouraging the dreamer to go beyond the beyond. It was my world, yes I could once call it mine. Although I have not arrived at the point where I can accept the harsh reality that it’s was once mine and what seemed so permanent has become impermanent reducing me to a secretive man walking under glaring sunlight hands across the chest as if hugging the secrets, for those secrets are the reason behind the survival of one’s life.

Now standing in the room where we once cuddled and played about and looking at the things which we both bargained and collectively owned it. The bed cover where her fading scent lingers, the curtains where her tastes for colours hangs, the framed pictures where past is meticulously framed, the wall hangings where her feminine reflection of hers are reflected.  I am surrounded by memories and mentally struggling to repossess what put us together, perhaps fiddling with the naïve notion of life that all is forever.

My arms are still across the chest holding my scattered self, myself that has been falling apart, myself that has been wondering like a ship without its captain. My body that was temporarily embodied for that impermanent thing called love, which I failed to see.