Unqualified

The sky is ashen, I am thinking of you and in my mind black snowflakes fall and fill this tiny space of time. It is a bad omen I think. Maybe it is because I prayed this morning to be forgiven without being sincere. I always find myself in the greys of this life and in such wonderfully sad delusions. I am as we speak shovelling black snow, a lttle sweat dripping off my brow. I am happy for the imagery it provides, certainly makes it better to write it all down.

Always effected at multiple levels, every issue always connected to another issue. Never just about you and me or about just one concept, always needs to be more because it is real and all real things have to mean something right.

I contemplated it all in the morning, writing it out elaborately highighting the pros and the cons, for me. SeLfish really and I know it too.

There was no need for it. Tommorrow I will be all empty and it won't matter anymore.Even as I dont feel the tug or flutter or warmth I know it like I know that there might come a day when the sun won't rise. I know that If anything were to happen to you, it would sting and hurt and ache where there is nothing now. I know that it is true without any actual physical proof. That you are as much a part of me as the air all around me and that even where it is silent and there is not the slightest breeze, I need but only to breath to know that it is there.

And everything of yesterday will be petty and not worth the thought. Today will fade away eventually into all the past tomorrows.

I think of you now, a day later. The sun is high in the sky and is almost blinding me. I have nothing written out, nothing left to say, but I call you anyway. I hear your voice the hushed tones and tne unlabooured breathing. The hesitation, the delibarate boredom in your voice. I remember that smug face you like to make so often and how I wish it bothered me more. I find it kind of sweet that it takes so little to get you there an that a little of your old habits remain like a piece of hanging thread from a very thick fabric. So what if today I don't want you, so what even if tomorow is the same. There will come a day before either of us die that it will be apparent that it never mattered so much what I felt but what I knew and what I did.

"I love you" and today I shall leave it that and not qulify.