I’m seated…in an armchair…in an empty room…facing a glass wall. I don’t know if you can see me, but I can see you. Seated calmly on your own armchair…sometimes you like to look around…sometimes you close your eyes. I stand up and walk toward the wall…may as well be a one-sided reflector…and I gently place my hand on the glass. I see you get up to do the same. The look in your eyes is distant…you don’t seem to see me…but your hand is directly opposite mine. Only the glass is stopping our fingers from interlocking. Only the glass is keeping us apart. Only the glass…
The glass which I put up. The glass which I strategically placed between us. I drop my hand and begin to pace around the room. Throwing a glance at you, I see that your palms…now both…are pressed against the glass…but your eyes… so empty…so distant! And it’s all my fault. I drop myself onto the ground behind my armchair. I dig my fingers into my hair. I squeeze my eyes shut. I think. All my questions are whys. My answers make me hate myself. I would be completely fine had I been the only one yearning for you. Had I been the only one aching to know how you are. The only one craving you. Had you been completely oblivious to the reasons of my departure and the fact that it was a conscious move on my part. Had you thought it was just one of those drifting things… "Happens all the time!” But you know. You know why, and you don’t understand. Because hearts don’t understand. I would know.
So what do I do? I can’t bring myself to break the glass, but I can’t bear seeing you like this. I can’t harbor the thought of the possibility of you actually feeling this way because of me. I’m bound by the past…held back by previous happenings…I am in the ******* of past heartbreaks and prominent fears. I do wish I could break the glass, I really do…
That’s why you weren’t supposed to know.
Your temporary friend, Grinnie