It's four in the morning, and I'm still in the same place.
In the same position.
In the universe of a thousand light years away from yours.
At the moment I do not feel anything.
That panic that radiated through my every pore
When when you left this afternoon
Merged with the walls of smoke that are slowly drenching
Stripped window glass.
You went forever.
I can not remember where.
My mind was preoccupied with memories of your hair,
The way you eat an orange
And of your eyes of the color of seaweed and the trees that are sunking into the sunset.
Separation went peacefully.
In the manners of black and white films that I can not stand.
You never asked me why.
You left me in silence,
Not even looking back while I watched from the window
How your dress crumpled while you were entering the cab.
Since then, I have no courage to walk through the apartment
Because every corner exudes with you,
Each object is wearing your fingerprint.
I wonder if I'll ever move from this place,
Make that first step without you.
Now officially.
I'm not bitter, I'm not afraid nor angry.
In fact, I feel empty.
Empty like the aquarium, which we stored in the closet
Once you gave our goldfish to your sister.
Maybe I'd feel better if the separation was more dramatic,
With some broken object and with slamming doors.
At least I'd feel something.
Anger, sadness, desire for revenge.
Any feeling that would force me to move on,
To not become a plant and to not stay
Frozen in time and space.
Quiet goodbyes are making you think
Of the things you want to forget forever,
Like your almond scent
And arm movements while you are shaking off cigarette ash.
If that separation was restless
I would do something now, maybe even sleeping.
I would not know the number of sunflowers on your dress
As you entered the cab
And at least I would once again hear your voice
While you would scream, cry
Or laughed at me in the face.
I can not stand quiet goodbyes.
You never asked me why.