It’s a rainy day and I’m a lonely man in a crowded bus stop.
The metal seat grips coldly on my weary body, the rain all but gave more reason to not move. I keep on trying to reignite the fading warmth in my hands by bellowing my breaths into them, but it’s too late. They were left in the cold for far too long. If only there was a warm hand that I could hold onto, like her hand. Just like that rainy day during one of our first dates. On that day, her affection would melt into my face with her fervent gaze, but I was too much of an iceberg to really appreciated it. Warm words would only dissipate like cotton candy into running water. It was cold. I was too much of an ignorant fool to have not noticed her walking into the rain. The woman who let me swallow my own regrets from complacency. The woman who was as sweet as dewdrops and as kind as an oasis. The woman who used to love me. She walked until I couldn’t see her and never looked back. That was the last time anyone saw her, the woman that I love but didn’t want to love me back anymore. Soon, the rain fades away and people start to move, move on without me. People walking alone. People walking together. People that remind me of her. She’s everywhere. The pavements where we walked during our dates. The local shops where we perused together. The billboards where her brands and products are now displayed. They’re all gently touched by the arriving afternoon sunlight. I let the sun tickle the tips of my shoes before I start to move on as well. *** I twirl my umbrella around before closing it, the staccato of my high heels was no longer muffled by raindrops. I let out a light yawn, managing the company is not an easy affair. Thankfully, my parents didn’t push me to find another guy to hopefully have babies with. After all, what good is all of that when there’s no love or even respect. It was a bit of a shame that the puppy love had me yipping around for unrequited attention. But it’s a part of living life, I suppose; living through experiences and labelling the ones that are your regrets. Thoughts of ‘what could be’ sublimated into ideas of what I could do now, plans of what I want to do. The warm sunlight feels liberating. The parents of one of my regrets still managed to maintain collaborations with my parents. In the end, I don’t mind it at all, it’s more money going into my pockets. I let out another light yawn, perhaps I could use a cup of coffee. Maybe have it outside and enjoy the fresh scents of fallen rain. Another experience that I would enjoy for myself. A sunny day for a single me in a busy café.
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