Defined By You

8.

After all, the moon decided to come out tonight and bless us once again with the graceful light of his.

When the time of our night meeting would come, I usually found Thea waiting for me near the wooden bench, which once was a spot for forgotten, now only to be the memory.

Tonight, she was not there, when I came to our meeting place. She was late. Not to lie, it made me worry. Did she finally understand something about me, that made her hate me? Did she give up on me? But who I was to question her? I don't define her nor do I have a choice to.

Time passed. Maybe even flew. I sat on the wooden bench and looked at its age marks. "What has it seen, what has he been through..." my mind wandered.

I looked at my phone. The black and white screen of a sculpture, created by the idea of the desired perfection showed me the ruthless time. 23:51 pm.

-9 minutes...So it was worth only 9 minutes.- I stand up, with a tuff feeling in my chest, making me think thoughts, that have been long forgotten.

"I was a fool to think she was real...She was near me all those nights and all those times our souls touched with help of our eyes, created by the purity and longsome wish. I felt real with her. Not created by anyone. I felt like myself, that has been missing in the crowd of thousands."

It was quiet. Me, the never-ending path, leading through the trees of night, and the pain within. It was haunting, yet somewhat comforting. "What did I expect from myself...Even if she was real, even if I could hold her, the ending would be the same. Me longing her, and her longing freedom."

The cold, mid-winter breeze caressed my worn-out lips. It was asking me to stay, to turn around and forget the rules of night and day, but how could I, if I was born to doubt. What can a human, with a lost future fight for, if he can't believe he is the future? He only can wander, what it is like to be himself. To be that someone, who is free in heart and mind. Who can believe, that there is a destined, running to catch the gone and praying to herself, that her mistake is not fatal to his name.