The thought of you was what lifted me
out of bed at 6:30am.
It was what kept me going on to the m-th sit-up then the n-th crunch.
It was what made me glide to the
kitchen to make toast for breakfast, pack fruits for lunch.
The thought of you was what made me
want to tap my heels to the beats, hum along the tunes, smile to the words when
I listened to the music in the morning train stuffed with quiet people young and
old.
The thought of you, the reminiscence
of how we met, what we talked about, how we touched, simply made me smile. It
was what made my eyes sparkle when I went out for a smoke, even
though they had been sorely strained on spreadsheets and charts and lines for
hours on end. It was what kept me from going grey when inside the AC was chilling and out there, the sky might
be doomed and the rain might be long and hard.
The thought of you was what made me
want to experiment with sauces, and steak cuts, and cheese for dinner and over weekends.
It was what made me want to pop a bottle and pour myself a glass when the
nights sailed in.
The thought of you, and I thought of
the sweat after an intense workout, the freshness of a cold shower, the softness of Turkish cotton towels, the smoothness of satin
sheets.
For a while, it has been the thought
of you.
Please look at me. I think you are tired. I
am too. We have been so very tired hauling our baggage through the ages,
through the continents. Let’s walk with me across the road, to the bay. And let
me see you throw it all away into the calm waters. I don’t want to see you drop
it. You have strong arms, don’t you? I want to see you hurl it across the open space with both of your bare
hands. I want to hear the sound of it piercing through the air. I want to see and hear the heavy splash as it speared into
the waters that were calm a minute before. I want to see it sink down and
disappear into the dark currents. I’ll do mine too. We’ll lean against the rail
and we’ll take a last look at it all – maybe it’s a look of thank and
gratefulness and wishfulness and regret, or maybe it’s a bitter look that says ‘good
riddance’. But for me, I will silently thank it all anyway, for it is what brings us
here today, by the bay. And we’ll close our eyes for a moment. And we’ll open
our eyes again and we’ll walk away. We’ll walk away, maybe on our separate
paths. But we’ll walk away, baggage-free. Who knows, soon enough, we’ll find
ourselves some new baggage that we might or might not want to keep with us for
a longer, happier time. But at least for that moment, we know we will just be.
Just be.
(chuyện cũ đã qua. tất cả đã xoá. giờ mới dám post)
