LITERARY | Recall What We Had

Loving you was a privilege; letting go was the price.

My fingers still remember every strand of your hair that they combed. My hands still ache for the shape of yours and the warmth they shared. My lips still taste the mint you always chewed. My pitiful eyes still search the crowd in hopes of seeing that familiar light you carried.

There is pain in seeing your shadow, but there is beauty in outlining the shape of the space you once stood in—the spot beside me.

I still search for the same roasted smell of coffee you always ordered. The same cup, the same café, the same rich flavor you always begged me to try. As you sipped in delight, the table became your stage and the flood of customers became your crowd. The sun shone as if it were your own built-in stage light.

For a second, your soft, languid smile was all I could see, and everything blurred into the background.

You knew how to own the moment, because you once knew how to capture me too.

The park still bears your shoe prints. The flower-lined pathway you once walked still blooms with the prettiest flowers, waiting for you to pluck them, waiting for you to give them to me.

The park bench became our sanctuary—our own kind of altar, where conversations were worth keeping. You talked about the future as if you were certain about it, certain that it would be us navigating life ahead. I still vividly remember how you would look out at the horizon, staring as if it showed you something beautiful.

Nights were not much easier. Your scent still lingers in my bedsheets, or maybe I am just missing you too much. I used to watch you sleep, how your face contorted in nightmares, fixating on your steady breaths that I couldn’t help but count until I fell asleep.

Your presence was a lullaby I never knew I needed, until only the wrinkles in my sheets remembered how you would hold me tight.

I still wait for you. A small glimpse of you, or maybe hearing your voice call from afar, would be enough to make my knees shake and fall to the ground. You are the only one worth waiting for—the only one who makes the world spin and time stop.

You are the music I would play on repeat through every phase of my life.

I will never forget you and everything that once surrounded you. I will sit by the train and envision you sitting right beside me like you always did. I will still make your coffee in the morning, just how you like it. I will still search for the warmth of your body before I go to sleep. The park bench will always be reserved for us, where we would sit when we were both old and gray.

I will still remember the light you emitted every time you smiled. I would risk being blind if your smile were the last thing I saw before everything went dark.