It was a different hug…

It was a different hug, it was felt, there was nostalgia in that hug, caused by distance and time.

The sofa formed the letter L, she sat on one end and I sat on the other. As she ate a quick bite I couldn’t help but watch her, the characteristic gleam in her eyes, the way her lips moved as she chewed, pausing only to smile as I carried on conversation.

Finishing the meal I rushed to hug her, trying to catch the time without being able to touch her during the exasperating days that turned out to be more than my fingers.

The night was fast, running out of time, and her half-closed eyes, watering from sleep, were the sign, the indication that my time had come to an end.

As I said goodbye to her, waiting for a final smile, I was haunted by the path I would have to travel alone, by the sharp cold winds worthy of an arctic polar zone.

The smile came out, but maybe forced, because while smiling, the eyes stared at the floor, and our breaths were not in harmony.

I looked for the last hug, offering him a kiss on the forehead as a sign of respect, but always hoping for more.

It was goodbye, another see you tomorrow, another night that I still wouldn’t wake up with her by my side.

The way home takes me past Rodin’s most famous statue, because despite not being seated, I wander thoughtfully, like a poet wondering if I only show the reasons and not present the facts… Love is incomprehensible when we try to understand it.

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