I swear time stood still. Your voice was new and yet familiar, as if I’d been hearing it since I could crawl. I didn’t know what to do. I’d been struck dumb by the beauty of you, not like a deer in headlights, but rather an unbeliever witnessing a miracle in real life. The miracle couldn’t slip away, so I decided to act. I said,
“Hello to you, too.”
And that was it. The next 10 months passed as if on wings blazing through time. For 10 months, 6’o’clock on the dot, I would quietly slip through the iron door and enter utopia with you. We talked about all the things under the sun and moon, each topic more riveting than the last. I was hungry to hear all you had to say. I wanted to learn you like the back of my hand, wanted to memorize the topography of your face, the silk of your hair and capture the sharp-shot of your laughter.
Around the 4th month, you came to me and I could tell something was different. I could sense the nervousness, the hunger you exuded. You quickly, quietly took my face in your hands. And you kissed me. And the world stopped all over again. I had my found my home.
If only it could have lasted. One act of carelessness, the white door left opened in haste, footsteps following, screaming, dragging, and oh they made a mess of it. Oh they made a mess of us.
I wonder how you’re doing now. If you have forgotten me. You live on the other side of the door and it is a place I can never step into again.
Khuda hafiz, my love. Khuda hafiz.