The days have passed and still I carry this heavy sense of foreboding, all the time. You shatter my reality by appearing on my last day. I hesitate to come near you. You try to smile and reassure me things are just fine. On the way to the airport, I ask, “So what’s your plan?” You pause and look at me, expressionless. “I guess I have to stay and take care of things.” And I reply, “I see.” I step out and say good-bye. And that’s when it became clear to me: I will not wear your ring anymore. Adieu.
Untitled by Mary-Ann Ortiz-LuisIn by New Author on January 14, 2011 at 1:49 pm