an old memory

I still love you. But that’s not the point now is it?
The sentences were yelling at my face as I became more and more captivated by the Japanese-translated novel that was gripped in my hands. The book was a gift given by an old flame during his skiing holiday in Japan. Ironically, the story line seemed all too familiar to me.

Tick, tock, tick, tock.

5. 45 pm. The clock displayed.
Fifteen minutes left. I sighed heavily as I recalled the conversation he and I had just earlier that afternoon.

“ So what’s your answer?”
“ Um, I’m out right now. Can we talk about this some other time?”
“ Okay…But have you thought about it?”
“ No. I still need some time.”
“ How much time do you need?”
“ Two days max but I promise to call you today.”
“ Alright. What time?”
“ Uh, 6?
“ That’s late. I can’t wait that long.”

“ Then don’t wait for me!”

I don’t know if I was being naïve but that sounded like such an easy task to do. But once it came out of my mouth, I realized what injustice I’d given him. He sounded forlorn and desperate whilst there I was, having lunch and some flirty banter with some mates out in the sunny weather, sounding amused rather than regret. I cant say that I didn’t feel bad. Admittedly, as a person who is strongly against polygamy, it was wrong of me to do it. But it was an impulse. A spur of the moment. A firing pleasure so satisfying that gets soaked by guilt and regret once it reaches its peak. And once it dies, the sticks begin to recollect themselves once more, repeating the beautiful but depraved occurrence again.
6pm. I took a long sip of green tea for the last time, savouring its light and delicate taste in my mouth and finally got out of my room.