Of times past

It wasn’t so much the pain of not being a part of John’s life anymore which hurt. It was more of the pain of not being acknowledged anymore, the pain which came when John’s eyes gave him a quick dismissal every time they met.

Not acknowledging him was as good as denying a large part of his own life. He was John’s cushion when bad times were around. He was the one who listened patiently to John’s woes. He was the one John squeezed tightly when John saw his first horror movie. And most of all, he was the one whom John shared many nights with; sharing an embrace so tight they were almost one.

And all this, did not all this mean anything to John? Did John not understand his need for him? Did John not understand that only together, would his existence be purposeful? Did not John understand the light and warmth he brought to him? A world without John. A world without light and warmth. That was what he was experiencing now.

A beam of light shone through a crack. Slowly but surely, the crack grew bigger. A figure, something so instinctively familiar to him, blocked the now radiant and warm light. John. He was back! The world around him was now of colours and heat abound. Did John not realise of his profound effect on him? Surely, John realised his folly and wanted him back?

Alas, it was not to be. John’s eyes bore indifference when he swept his eyes over him. John stayed for only a few moments longer and left yet again, bringing back the coldness and darkness of his world once again.

Down below, John locked the attic door. He never did like entering the lifeless attic to search for extra stationery, with all the old and mouldy stuff in it. Especially that old bolster.