Conversations

Conversations - Image courtesy of Jumbo WallPaper

The thing I miss the most about us is our conversations.

Our frequent rendezvous at the coffee shop where we discussed dreams and drew up plans for the future.

Moonlight trysts and the ghost stories you used to spin, knowing how much they terrified me. And despite all my outward protestations of fear I had a secret longing to be terror-struck, and you knew that and that, your knowing is something I miss too. 

The conversations at the park bench after a morning run, our breaths frosting in the cold winter air as you whispered sweet nothings in my ear.

The late night telephone chats when you were continents away. Words that travelled across time and space, their meanings sometimes failing to keep pace, but the words always stayed with me long after we hung up and went about our separate lives. 

Then the I do’s.

And not long after, the I don’t want to’s. 

And then there were the things left unsaid but more real than spoken words. They hung between us in an invisible bubble that kept us apart and grew larger as more things were left unsaid. 

And now you are gone.

And I can’t remember your voice anymore.

And all that remain are the voices in my head.