Just last weekend, we’d met after lunch.
I’d had a heavy lunch and was sleepy. So he took to the wheel while I fell asleep in the passenger seat.
I woke up and looked around.
"Where are we?"
“Umm al Quwain” (about a 100 kms from where we had started off).
We went to the beach and sat in our car, a few feet from the water. Rolled down the windows and watched the sunset. And talked.
Talked for hours about nothing and everything, till long after the sun had set.
I’d like to say it was one of the best days. But so many days with him were so good. Even when we did nothing.
All around me, my life is surrounded by the things that remind me of him.
His t-shirt (which is now my nightshirt cos it’s so biiiig and comfortable), his sunglasses, which I hate so I’d grabbed it off his head and put it in my bag, and now it’s with me cos I haven’t met him since… the books he wanted me to read, the dvds he wanted me to watch… the chowder I make that he likes so much… the emptiness in my life…
Why does love have to be so difficult when it’s so simple?