We Will Get Together Again (Soon)

Stop…

Please…

You will regret this!

I heard a soft, unfamiliar voice, calling my name. Then I felt a tap on my shoulder.

“Miss?” I opened my eyes and saw a woman dressed in white. I looked at her and stood up.

“This way, please,” she said as she walked me to a little office with a paper covered bed and a small desk. I smiled to her and said thank you.

A tall man with greying short hair and glasses over a hook nose greeted me. He began to ask me several questions. I told him that I had a terrible migraine last night. I also told him about the super painful episodic tension headaches that I had almost every morning for the past few weeks.

As a matter of protocol, the doctor took my blood pressure, and then he asked me another series of questions. The doctor concluded that the episodic tension headaches I suffered are caused by temporary stress, anxiety, sleep problems, and fatigue. I’m not surprised though. After he gave me his diagnosis, he told me to take some ibuprofen and see how I felt in the morning. Very typical.

I walked back to my place, went straight to my room, throw my bag on the floor, took off my black skinny jeans and tossed it on the floor. I lay down on my bed. God, I felt like shit.

I looked around, nothing has changed. A sketch of a girl with a long black hair that hung on my wall caught my eye. I drew it myself, a long time ago. I stared at the sketch, and it felt like I was staring at her in person. I saw her bitter smile and the angst–and sadness–that hidden beneath her weary eyes. Suddenly, I felt empty. I felt like something is missing, like there was a hole inside my chest. I felt hollow.

I missed her.

I missed her presence. And it tortured me.

“You will regret this!”

You were right. I do. I regret it.

—

I sat in front of my desk, turned my laptop on, and started to type.

“Old friend, we will get together again,” a familiar voice whispered in my ear, “soon.”

My tears fall freely as I post my writing on my blog.