Will You Call Me One For The Road?

“cool? Bye” he said.
“cool. Bye”, she replied and hung up the phone.
That’s how they ended the sweet “negotiation” they’d once agreed upon, the proof of which was etched only in cryptic signals through electric telephone wires, ending it the same way it started. Heart-breaks were meant to leave a bad taste in your mouth, but then why didn’t this one? Why did this one feel so comfortable? When every other dejection pierced through her ego like daggers, why didn’t this one strip her off of any emotions?

Probably because it was a stupid idea in the first place, it wasn’t really serious anyway, not like we were in love pffft… or probably because it was the best it could have ever been. It was never really about “two souls completing each other” or “love saving us” no, not any of that romanticism. It was as simple as the smiles you had to hide during classes when you saw their name pop up on your phone screen, the sleep you’d willingly compromise to have trivial conversations at night and answering drunk calls, humbly reminding you that you’re on their mind when they’re out of it.

I wish we had more time to sit and have deep, meaningful conversations about round pizzas in square boxes, to listen to you in your drunken state of mind, trying to articulate simple words as if they were tongue twisters. I wish i could hear more of those poems and show you my feelings for them. I wish I could make you hear my favorite songs. I wish I could have a few more mockery drenched laughs; but that’s all that there is to it and it was more than I ever wished for it to be. So just call me one for the road?