requiem for a wilted rose

“rose petals fall to the ground

evening follows and

i remember you again”


thanks for the call. it was kind of weird but talking to you made me feel better. for strangers who haven’t even met, our conversation was like a conversation between long-lost friends. i learned a lot and i hope i didn’t bore you.

when i put the phone down, i realized that we were talking for more than four hours. something i haven’t done since high school. but it was a very grown up conversation. and i like that. it’s nice to talk to someone who’s smart and open-minded. you had my attention.

and although you were obnoxious for the most part, i found it hard to hang-up. how i wished that we talked some more.

now comes the part where i say things that i’m hoping i won’t regret.

i already said thanks. what i want you to know now is that i miss you. i miss your voice, your snide comments and all the other things that you said. i wish i recorded our conversation because i want to hear your voice over and over again. you made me feel important. and you listened.

and did i say i miss you? oh, i already did.

it’s funny because i have always said to myself that talking to someone face to face is the only way to know if the conversation is genuine. but ours was one of the most genuine conversations that i’ve had. and that’s rare.

now i’m hoping that you’d call me again. sing to me those britney lines and play 20 questions again. it was so surreal yet so real at the same time.

i don’t know how many conversations you’ve had that are like ours but i never shared that much to a stranger, especially over the phone.

i am keeping my hopes up. i’m praying that one of these days you’d be bored and you’d ask me if i’m busy (of course i’d be available for you) and call.

i miss you, stranger.


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