Maybe your mother found out,
but she already knew.
Or maybe your brother found it
through her, and he created
a ruckus? But it wouldn't be
this serious, ain't it?
Or maybe your dad found out
and locked you in your room.
snatched away your mobile,
cut your Wi-Fi, and made you
swear on your mother's life,
to make you stop talking to me.
Well, hell, am I overthinking?
Maybe I do, but what if that
sneaky little friend of yours hit it
off and you fell in his groove?
Maybe you both are a thing now
and that's why you withdrew.
But you wouldn't stoop so low,
would you? It feels like a stretch
to assume something like that.
but I can't stop thinking about
the possibilities.
What about that toxic BFF of
yours? Did she spew any venom
against me? Or your therapist
warned you against staying close
to me because you got
daddy issues? Maybe yes.
Maybe no.
And that makes me come to
the last option, which is the
never-ending mess that is me.
I look deep within myself to see
if I was the problem all along.
It's a scare to be honest.
But maybe that's the simplest
explanation. Maybe I was not
a safe harbour and you had
to sail your ship.
But I have a duty to protect
myself too. So I pack my
obsession to find closure.
sink in all the reasons and
justifications beneath the sea,
to take deep breaths that
are seasoned in sadness.
Ohh how wonderful it is to
stare at the setting sun.
The sunset from an empty harbour
was always a spectacle, I guess.
Maybe somewhere you are
doing the same, I guess.
Maybe you're more relieved.
Or maybe you're heartbroken.
Or perhaps you're too busy
deciding what to order for dinner.
I wouldn't know.
Maybe I wouldn't want to
know this time.
Maybe that's closure, or maybe
One doesn't actually find it.
But in the process, maybe one
simply grows tired of carrying
questions that refuse to
become answers.