The Dream of Your Departure
Every night, I dream of your departure. Walking through the path we used to run chasing our shadows. Every morning, I wake up and realize it isn’t real. The sun shines in my cheeks, going through my broken window. Remembering is the hardest part when my head always become heavy every time I think about you;
— ignites the loneliness that I’ve been trying to bury it down inside the limbo.
I’m losing my clues when answering your riddles; words about our farewell. We never talk about it anymore; even you’ve said once that I can talk to you about anything. Is it another lie or just a broken vow of you?
It counts as years, the definition of our distance since your departure. But, I always deny to write about you as a past tense; because I believe you’re still around and come back at one point in my days. I do everything repetitively; waking up, having breakfast, playing the footage of the memories about you, drowning into the sorrow, and then healing up, and getting to sleep, and having a dream of your departure.
In this seashore, I long for you; to the dot we agreed to begin our journey. Gazing to the orange skies, letting our feet washed by the ocean. I don’t care about the seconds, or the minutes, or even the hours that will swallow my hope, I just wanna see another day in light. Another day with you.
Every night, I dream of your departure and me in the seashore, longing for you. Every day, I’ve been trying to bury the loneliness inside the limbo. Like the Inception that becomes our favorite movie. Like the reality that I’ve lived once.
