The Day After
Edvard Munch, 1894 – 1895.
One unexpected day, you barged into my life in a whirlwind manner, and engulfed me in flames of rapture.
The ignition soon transformed into wisps of smoke, and then evolved into a mesmerizing blaze. I wasn’t concerned about getting burnt; I was terrified that I would never get warm, and so I stepped towards you to be closer.
You started culminating and capturing my mind. The topics we’ve talked about, the roads we’ve walked, the places we’ve been, and even the most quotidian words you’ve said made me think of you. Perhaps I just needed an excuse to feed myself so I could continue. I never wanted to stop, anyway.
One unexpected day, the fire seemed to waver just a little. You seemed a little out of reach. Only a tiny bit.
The more I reached out to the heat from the flames, the colder I felt. I could feel the goosebumps and chill shoot into my bones. The fire was still within my sight, but a bit farther away from me as the days go by. I couldn’t force anyone to stay with me – let alone, and especially you.
You always knew the perfect time to blow some brief heat towards me, especially after when I’ve finally convinced myself to extinguish the remnants of whatever still existed. It wasn’t much.
I only took notice of the twinge of the scathing marks left on me as you morphed into nothing more than a dim.
via Daily Prompt: Dim