"I want a walk in closet connected to our bedroom and our kids get their own room"
Funny how when I look back at the blueprints of our make believe house was still in my closet. How detailed we drew and sketched of the house that we won't build.
You designed the living room, kitchen and our bedroom and I designed the kids bedroom and our personal lounge for work and leisure.
How we imagined the study would fill with my father's books and mine, how by the bay window there would be a built in seats where you and I will read our books quietly and you're in my arms. Our drinks, your ice matcha and my hot coco are placed on the counter. We would embrace each other's warmth while the rain sets the mood for a lazy evening.
How our graduation, engagement and wedding pictures are hanged by the stairs. So that when our guests walks in, they would bear witness to how long we had been with each other. For every single decoration holds something more than just being there to make our home beautiful.
How our kitchen is properly cleaned and everything is where they belong just like us. How on every weekend, we would cook together. Our parents would come over on every Sunday and we would make their room. I would wash both of our cars on Saturday morning and we would go for our usual jogs on the evening. How every 24th I would buy you a present and every 12th April we would celebrate our anniversary.
I swear, I could hear our laughter that echoes every hall and in every room. How your scent lingers in our bedroom. How my tears drop to that very paper that we drew our home to be.
How with every single word I had said now was just a delusion, a dream that died mid way through our lives, a promise that is still there, kept safely inside a chest, right by our bed in the house that we won't build.
YOU ARE READING
this time i'll get better
Poetrysome short stories, self-proclaimed poems and presumptuous writings