Maria Nicanor

misfit toy

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Follow Me

22 junho 2013

It was a rushed goodbye that would have to last for a long while, she guessed. Maybe forever. She hugged him zealously, her body able to express more than her brain, and pressed her face into his chest. He must have had the same feeling because he hugged her in return like she was someone he might not see again. He kissed her hard, not on the face but above her ear. She wondered about the nature of this kiss.
They let go of each other. How to leave it? "I'll call you?", "Don't forget to write?", "See you next time!"? None of that seemed appropriate. Because why say this words? When was next time going to be? These few days has been like a cozy foxhole dug out of time. It was time to go back to their lives.
"Thank you", she said tearfully. Those were the parting words that fit.
He entered the departure door and waved her goodbye through the other passengers.
She felt a sense of desperation as the plane's engines began to churn and it finally took of away from her safe land. She wanted to keep him in her mind as he was now. She didn't want to lose him but it gave her the feeling that her memory was already closing on him.
She hadn't chosen the brave life. She'd chosen the small, fearful one.
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