When her past came calling…

Sometimes, you think it’s all over, but it’s not.

You’ve put it all behind you, then the phone call came and the perfect world comes crumbling.

She has been expecting the call, she has composed herself several times; talked to herself several times.

She thought she was prepared; little did she know she was fooling herself. She would never be prepared.

How does one prepare for hurricane of emotions?

She was feeling sleepy when the call came. Sleep, embarrassed to be caught at that moment, leapt like a frightened cat.

She could feel her heart beating erratically. Her hands started shaking. She couldn’t even coordinate her speech. The shame!

She had planned to be poise, but all her plans crashed. There was no plan B. She didn’t think she would need plan B. Now she knows.

She tried to discuss with the caller, but she knew she was rambling.

But discussed they did.

In retrospect, it appeared she was the only one doing the talking, while the caller just calmly listened.

A lot of scenes flashed through her mind. A lot of tears flowed down her cheeks.

And as always, the caller’s soothing kindness raced through the phone waves and calmed her nerve.

They talked about past issues that refused to be buried and forgotten.

Who was she kidding, such issues would always be with her. It would always be in her mind. These issues would go to the grave with her.

She pretended it was over, but she knew it would never be over.

She wished she had not made that singular, deadly mistake.

A mistake that shaped their lives and dragged them to different parts of the world.

The caller would have been there for her…

The caller would have cared. She would have cared too.

She wouldn’t have been a shadow, unsure of the true meaning of LOVE. There was a time, she used to know what love meant.

It’s been years now…they are both old and grey…yet…

Growing frail and feeble everyday…yet…

Will they recognise each other, respect each other, like each other, be friends?

This is the rambling of a brokenhearted lady; a lady with a heart that refuses to mend.

Sigh…

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