The Clock on the Wall

There you lie, perched before me and my world. Mounted on the off-white wall, keeping count of time while silently witnessing the intimacies of my life. You saw that huge stack of clothes on my bed, the perpetually cluttered table and the gloom that wouldn’t let me mend any of it. You heard those calls for help to friends and family and the hopeless silence that followed them.

Then the subliminal smiles started while I keyed words into my phone late into the night. You saw my expectant eyes waiting for her texts, didn’t you? The calls, the never ending calls and the subtle prayers on my lips wishing that the call would just go on. You heard them.

The stack of clothes was gone, the dread, the gloom, all had left. Your constant tick-tock had finally brought the good times. Hope you didn’t laugh on me for that first date. Standing before the mirror and trying dozens of clothes. And then calling my friends over to help me figure the perfect dress for the date. In retrospect I looked funny, but it worked.

I know you were amazed when you saw my tidy room, the meticulousness, the fragrances instead of the usual air of despondency. Love does this to you. Hope you didn’t mind our snuggles & giggles and didn’t forget to close your eyes before we crumpled the bed sheet with creases. Hope you didn’t mind me ignoring calls from my friends and family, I had better things to do. Didn’t I?

The cheesy nick names, the mellow whispers & the frantic laughter, you were witness to all our secrets. The hope to be with each other forever, the wish to hold those hands for eternity, the desire to wake up to see her face everyday.

Sunggles and giggles were replaced with sounds squabbles and arguments. The room smelled of broken hopes with a touch of despair. Then one day we were far away, too far to walk back. Hope you didn’t see the tears. Hope you slept while I couldn’t for nights. Hope you didn’t snitch on me to my mom about the empty bottles. The empty bottles kept in hopes to store away my sorrow.

Hope you don’t make fun of me for the calls for help to friends and family and the hopeless silence that follows them. Hope you don’t judge me for this huge stack of clothes on my bed and this cluttered table.

 

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