“Love knows no bounds”, they said. Yet everywhere we looked, there was barbed wire and broken ground where grass would no more grow. The flowers had dried and shrivelled up, the ghost of their scent haunting the paper-thin air. Slowly, the cracks grew and rose from the ground, up into our hearts. The space between us was evident from the empty sheets and the fading red of the drapes, which no longer prevented the scorching sun from entering our home. The pieces of furniture which used to belong in their places in our warm room seemed out of place, as though they were foreigners in a city with no language. The silence we used to so enjoy with each-other became deafening, unbearable almost. We needed noise, so we switched on the television, blasted the speakers and threw open the windows, welcoming the constant hum of traffic. But even that couldn’t save us from the nights. We hated the sound of the crickets, but it became a lullaby for us on those lonely nights. Your voice, the few times I heard it, seemed odd, as though you had stolen it from someone I used to know. We chose to leave, go away, alone, as new individuals. We discussed over luke-warm tea how hard we had tried and how leaving each-other would be good for us. We kept the brave smiles as we packed up, leaving our home an empty house. We hugged goodbye and spoke of how it was for the best, how relationships sometimes broke out of nowhere, for no good reason. But none of that talk could change what we both knew all too well- we were over long before we left each-other and we would be over long after too.


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