Years from now on, you won’t be mine. I’ll be looking back, and I’ll be surprised at how fast you’ve moved on with life. I’ll be driving along Nakuru-Naivasha highway on a hot sunny day. My truck will break down. And I’ll be alone. I’ll be stuck somewhere along the highway, where help lies thousand miles from where am at. So I’ll park my truck beside the road, next to a tree. Then I’ll think of you. ‘Cause you were always that type of a girl. Unforgettable. I’ll give you a call, on your old number that you rarely use. It will go straight to the Voicemail.
“Hey, it’s Christiana, please leave a message..”
You’ll be in a different city. You’ll be washing the baby. Sometimes feeding it. Sometimes stroking it to sleep. Sometimes, humming to it. Sometimes, you’ll be in the kitchen, cooking dinner. Sometimes, you’ll be on bed, or on couch in the arms of the man you fell in love with. Eating popcorns, watching a movie or doing whatever is it you guys can do together. I’ll be on the elevator, making my way to my hotel room. I’ll dial your number. I’ll be lucky, for you’ll pick it up anyway. I’ll open my room, slam the door, and fall on the bed.
“Helloo?”
Before responding, I’ll take a deep sigh, to let the voice sink in. It’s been quite a while, but your voice still gives me goosebumps.
“Hello… Are you there..?”
You always had that kind of voice. Compassionate voice, kind and of gentle touch. You still have that spark. It’s a voice that I’ve always wanted my kids to hear when they wake, when they sleep, and when they come of age.
“Yes, I’m here.. its been quite a while, sorry I’ve called late… how are you?”
And we’d talk for a short while. Most will experience weird silence. You’ll ask about me, and I’ll tell you, “I’m still the same. I’m still the old me. Nothing much has changed in me”. You’ll still manage to smile, but not as you used to.
“Just wanted to hear your voice. I’ve missed it.”
Then I’d hung up.
Years from now on, you won’t be mine. Not in the same way as you are right now. I’ll be looking back to this day when I wrote this. When you were mine, and at some point, I’ll ask myself, “What was I thinking about? , what is it that changed,to lead us stray. ? What is it that we couldn’t get right?” I’ll look back to this moment, with nostalgia ridden on my heart. With melancholic hues that I felt the first time I ever lost you. And of sadness I barely know how to avert. I’ll still be alone, but not lonely.
In a bar, I’ll be on hemming way or dunhill, at the lounge, I’d give you a call. Just to listen to that voice. I’d wonder why do words suddenly change meaning? You love till you don’t. So you love another. You’re strong till you ain’t, so you give up. Why do words change meaning with time. I’ll still give you these calls, years from now. Your voice, I’d never grow tired of it. Maybe that’s how much I loved you. But you loved him so much, so you gave him kids, that were meant to be mine. That’s how you tore me apart.
But here we are, aren’t we? Can we make a difference. Can we work it out before it all goes away?? Can you love me enough. Do you love my imperfections as I do embrace yours?
Years from now on, you’ll be holding on to a kid, or on the couch in the arms of the man you love. I’d love that man to be me. I’d love that kid to be ours. And your voice, I’d want to hear it each time.
***
As written by Phill Ibsen
( Master Of Descriptions )
A Heart_Art_Poetics productions
Leave a comment