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Writer's pictureMichelle Sarkisyan

Space Between

Updated: Nov 6, 2020

Gone are the days when we walked together, encapsulated in our imagined universe, away from the ugly reality of the world. But I do remember that feeling well. You were my muse, my dream and world - all created and stored in one human being.


Please, believe me when I say that I tried treating my fading love with care. I smeared her face with a special anti-wrinkle cream, made from my regular revisits to every strong memory of us. Every night, before going to bed, I painted the ceiling with the most colourful and love-filled drawings of our most beautiful moments.


We learned to sleep in the same bed no matter how difficult it was for both to keep our stubbornness under the same roof. And our conversations were like poetry that would never be written on anything but the surface of moments folded like a sheet of paper in our minds.


But things changed. Our love became like a hanger on which my clothes didn’t want to stand anymore or a forgotten at the back of the shelf cup with a broken handle. It became something I look at and frown because our goals have changed, and under its perfect make-up, there were too many lies and illusions.


I just need a break from all the noise in my heart.


I need to sit on the porch of an old cabin and listen to the stillness. I what to be out where things are simple and every breath is a reminder there is still beauty and magic left in this world. But who knows, maybe in some parallel universe out there, we are standing side by side laughing that in some other life we are apart.

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