All Black. All Clear.
- all black — signals an “all clear”, meaning there are no defects that can be seen against the black running gear of a train (railroad terminology)
My room is quiet, your laughter somewhere else.
The air has been missing your scent and though you wear your perfume, they won’t come see you to enjoy it.
Our conversation has been like boiling water under the sun. Words died of thirst and the next goodnight never came to save them.
My way of loving burns much too hot for me to stay here.
My frayed expectations have made their way back from the lonely desert, on the last train home.
Easy come, easy go. What a damn shame.
I tried my best. I was patient. I was understanding. But I’m no one’s fool.
I gave you more second chances than you deserved, but the last time we went out you decided you were going to play your silly little games again.
Texting countless other people while we’re out only shows how disrespectful you can be.
Our friend has nothing to be jealous of. She’s in a committed relationship and I have nothing to be jealous of either.
If there’s anything my future relationship is not going to look like, it’s a collection of red flags, and you, my dear, are like a golf course under the sunset.
Your repeated behaviour was the answer I needed. You are who you are and I’m a better man than you’ll ever find in your WhatsApp list full of foreigners.
You love the attention so much that it doesn’t really matter who it’s coming from as long as it’s there to fulfill you. The more, the better. Therefore, I hope you gather enough boys to build your own kindergarten.
In my previous story about us, I refused to believe that what we had wasn’t special for you. Boy, was I wrong. My rich expectations really do make situations seem more meaningful than they truly are.
How did I even consider being with someone who after all that still thinks we could only be friends? With anyone else it would’ve already turned into a relationship by now, but for you…it didn’t mean anything.
Spare me the hookups and situationships, I ain’t into that.
I crave physical touch and intimacy too, but I have never scooped that low to do things just for the sake of doing them. Unless it leads somewhere, I want nothing to do with it.
I am stronger than that because some of us really do stand on loyalty and pure intentions.
Dodging a bullet is what this feels like, except it’s closer to dodging a whole machine gun strapped onto a tank.
The bruise your head had left on my arm when we were cuddling has slowly faded away and, unfortunately, so have our chances.
I am not settling for your splash of love. I’m not planning on starving myself.
My hands aren’t yours to hold, and my time isn’t yours to waste.
My love isn’t yours to diminish. I’m done playing games.
I’ll take good care of myself till the right person comes along, and if it’ll take a little longer for her to show up, then so be it.
She’ll know what to do when she gets here.
Here, have this umbrella for a rainy day. If you would like to support me, please share my story with your friends and loved ones.
This post was previously published on medium.com.
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