the poet

in the long run

"i have something to ask you" 

we sat on the floor next to your bed, legs tangled with a fan facing us. 

it was exactly 3 days after i saw the picture of you and naz which it took me 72 hours to get my wits about and interrogate you over the scandalous ordeal. 

for once, i was afraid of being right. 

you hummed in response, fingers strumming an acoustic guitar -- possibly coming up with a new song in your head. 

"you've met naz right?" 

"yeaaahhh" you yawned out. i had my head resting on the bedside as i leaned facing upwards. you gently plopped your head next to mine. 

"do you know her?" i asked carefully. 

we sat in silence for a few seconds before you turned to look at me, i could see it in your eyes and an instinct told me i wouldn't like what i was about to hear. 

"i know her." you simply stated, still looking into my eyes, watching me to see if i'd react a certain way. i could feel a heavy weight on my chest and a twist in my stomach. i never considered myself to be this insecure. 

"well?" i started, "who is she to you?" 

you stared blankly, almost have if i'd caught you in some way, as if you were never going to tell me. how were you planning on going through with that? i literally lived with her or was that why you were willing to let me stay over so often?

"she's no one, she means nothing to me" you said, "never did." 

"and does that apply to me" i replied, sharply. my eyes squinting from annoyance. i wasn't the confrontational type but naz wasn't dear to me, no matter how much i tried for her to like me she never attempted to reciprocate it. 

"no," your voice sounded different, "it's not like that." 

i wasn't interested in having this conversation anymore even though i had many questions, i still do but some things a better left unsaid and so be it. 

we sat in eerie silence for a bit, before i pulled myself up. your eyes wide, following me attentively. it was best for us to spend some time on our own to process this. you and i both knew that. 

"i'll see you" i mumbled, walking towards the door. i could feel you jerk towards me but stopped yourself and i was fine with that. 

i grabbed my bag and my keys, said goodbye to amon and made my way out. 

the summer heat was rigorous. i could feel it on my face, making my entire body throb. the walk to the train station wasn't that lovely, my eyebrows knitted, jaw clenched with my teeth grinding. i was sure to have a headache by the time i reached home. 

home to my mother. 

after getting catcalled twice at the station i gave my ticket to the conductor and soon found myself staring at lushes of green passing by me at great speed. i could feel my heart sink, i regretted not talking to you about it but i wondered why you didn't try to stop me. 

later, i would discover you'd be great at giving me space. 

by dusk, i was at the station near my parent's home and the walk there was ridiculously scary and dark but i made it home alive. 

my mother didn't ask too many questions, only a few about my lack of bags and loss of weight. my brother sat next to me on the couch as we waited for dad to get home from work. 

he leaned his head on my shoulder as i told him stories of the city, which he seemed to enjoy them but my mind was elsewhere. 

somewhere along the night i lay in my old bed and wondered why i was so upset, i was maybe overreacting but that would soon sink away after the picture of you and naz would flash before my eyes.