‘why? why did it not work out?’
this question is my cue to reach out for my phone or take a sip of coffee. it is my entry code for escape. how do i explain the whys? the reasons is a lot like the wind. it is there. it sometimes brings clues of what will come … like the scent of your perfume or the sandwich burning in the microwave.
how do i explain how it ends or why it had to end?
how do i explain how it annoys me when you leave your shirt (just your shirt) on the towel rack? how you would eat cereals in my coffee mug and let the milk sit there until it leaves a crease. how do i explain… why you chose to leave the shirt i gave you for your birthday . . . and why you left if folded in my closet.
how do i explain that you chose to leave your sketches behind but chose to bring your tattered slippers with you.
how do i explain that i knew the storm was coming the moment you whispered ‘hey’?
how do i explain that i looked up wishing i would still see a clear sky and fluffy white clouds despite the glaring thunder sounds? how do i say all these and not burst into my own rain shower?