Unfinished

I have never appreciated looking out the window since the peaceful nights of April. The soggy streets, pale lights, the city skyscrapers at night together with the few people that walked by have always been the view of midnight but if there’s any difference tonight, it’s the rain that pours from the thick clouds and the wind that dances with my curtain sheets. An inevitable force dictates me to travel back to my dreams that seemed impossible, to my wishes that patiently clung to hope, to the times I wish were changed and to the moments I hope were still here.

Liquor bottles have been starting to pile up but the nights have not gone any sweeter. On different nights, I take a walk down that long avenue. I would love the comfort of the cold wind that rubs against my skin it reminds me of those November nights. It’s where I find comfort or it’s what I at least thought. It’s heading me back to the start.

How long has it been since that time we first spent waiting for the city sunrise? Or maybe the first morning I watched you ‘til you woke? Or maybe that midnight you came knocking on my door on a surprise? Everything slipped too fast, too fast that I didn’t have enough time to savour it before it’s gone.

Those days have departed, so long departed but just this morning, you were clothing yourself on my bedside or at least I would like to believe it’s still here but ill-fated as it may seem it’s gone, so long gone.

There have been too many episodes of leaving and coming back. You leave as if there was nothing to lose and comeback as if you never left. Every time you come around, I am not sure how long will it last but I am sure that it’s only a matter of time before you mess it all up. We’ve been running around circles, stuck repeating the same mistakes.

I used to think time itself would offer a great escape but it hasn’t gone any further.

I’m still here, still caught.

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