I'm Gonna Miss You

"You know," he halted his strides towards the door and turned, "I'm gonna miss you."

She paused. Taken aback, her finger that was grazing the edge of her wine glass stopped.

He froze, caught surprised by his spoken thought. After weeks of conflict between his mind and his heart, he thought that his logical self had got the better of his emotional self. It seemed the war wasn't over. Or perhaps his reasoning was at its ebb being caught up in the moment?

"I AM going to miss you," he repeated in a much softer tone and with much assurance to her and, maybe, to himself too.

His sight fell on the girl sitting head down in front of him. She seemed submerged into the soft ambiance of the restaurant.

Patrons were chatting, laughters were being blurted intermittently, dinner utensils were tinkling, song was being played, but his words came across crystal clear. Her heartbeat suddenly raced up. A sense of hope swept through her. Her hitherto calm and focused eyes welled up.

Although it's not the exact words she had secretly wished for, perhaps these were the opening line to something more? She lifted her head slowly. Meeting his gaze, she could sense her longing reflected in his eyes. She dared not take her eyes off him, waiting for him to continue.

~

She's not sure how many people in that restaurant remembered the song that was accompanying them that night, but for years, whenever the song played, it wouldn't end quickly enough to stop her tears from flowing ...

~

"I've always wondered what would happen if I had stayed that night," he says. A question directed to the lady in front of him, as well as to himself; a question that lives twenty long years in his mind.

It's the same restaurant where he waved his last goodbye to this town and left for the city twenty years ago. Same place, different ambiance. Different food, different owner, different company, same him, different her.

Her eyes, her exuberant youth and charm, her demeanour and her smile - are just like her mother twenty years ago. Just like how he has always remembered her, and that song ...

.

Nothingness

That's what it was in the beginning - nothingness.

After a seemingly endless time of straining, two words painstakingly surfaced. They were hardly discernible floating in the darkness emanating from the void. Still, the two words did wonder, having poached the tension of the surface. They started to trickle.

At long last, the void disappeared, swallowed by the bright light flashing from the fusion of six words into an entity.

"I wrote. The void is filled."

There, my desire for creativity was fulfilled. Satisfaction.

Until the next surge ...

.