prose & prompts

late night walks

i think we both knew it'd be over when we made it back to our—your apartment. i think that's why we took slow, small, calculated steps through the streets. we took the long route.

we never take the long route, because I always preferred the short route. the route that passed by that restaurant you loved so much. the route that passed by the book shop we spent so many silent afternoons at, the park we walk through when we just want to relax, the apartment building where our friends live, the ice cream store where we spent the afternoon just talking, long after our ice cream had melted and the sun had set.

so we took the long route.

the route with shady alleys, and dumpsters on every doorstep and illegally parked cars and stray rats and raccoons roaming the sidewalks.

i would've complained, you would've complained, but i think we just got too comfortable in the silence. it was the one thing we had left, we always welcomed the silence. for some reason it filled the space between us, no matter how large.

but all good things end, no matter how good, no matter how much you don't want it to, no matter how much i fight the tears pooling at the sides of my eyes and no matter how much i ignore the unspoken words and unresolved feelings between us. no matter how much i want to hug you when you fish your keys out of your pocket and no matter how much i want to apologise when you twist the handle and open the door. no matter how much i wish i could've changed when you step inside and turn back to me and give me a smile that reeks of sorrow and pity and screams in bright blinking neon letters that it's all over. no matter how much i wish i could forget you.

all good things come to an end, even if you were the best thing that ever happened to me, even if i never want it to end.