
Lying in bed thinking about past relationships, I squirm at the mistakes that were made. There are so many it’s almost impossible to remember each one. And where am I now? Still in my dead-end job with dreams of making it as a writer. Looking through the blinds at the stars wondering what will become of my efforts, a pain in my left arm snakes its way up to my shoulder. It’s a heart-attack, and I’m going to die in the middle of the night. I just know it. No goodbyes. No published works. Closing my eyes, I see church spires struck by lightning before impaling worshippers below. I see asteroids circling the prehistoric earth as the place where we first made love waits patiently for our return. Beneath the seas and under so many layers of rock, there are emotions and feelings buried so deep they never get to see the light of day until it’s too late. What became of our love and all those moments the world never got to glimpse? Where did our smiles go, the ones we shared in the lonely hours just like these? Turning on my side, the guilt becomes too much, and I’m forced to get up. Rolling a cigarette and smoking in the dark, I beg forgiveness for all of my failures, but still they won’t leave, nor will the echoes of so many wasted days. In the bars and clubs of places long since left behind, I can feel how things used to be. In the cool air that blew through her hair as we walked hand in hand to a waiting taxi, I can see the future in her eyes. But it was never meant for me. In a bus station that once knew my face, a strange sensation grips my younger self, but before he knows what it is, she grabs his hand and pulls him close.

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