I have started taking into cigarettes after a long time - the smoke slowly fills up my entire room almost making me blind - blind to memories, but that is just a temporary relief.The burning pieces of cigarettes in the ashtray reminds me of us. While you burn once in complete peace and fulfillment, I keep burning with every passing day. I am scared to look at my hands, there is blood you see, slowly dripping from my palms drop by drop. I hate this red colour which was your favourite - I know. The dripping never stops, there is blood all over my room, the entire house smells of corpse. I wish I could leave this place and settle somewhere else but where would I go. I cant leave you here alone. I know you are here - constantly watching me at a distance, feeling the pleasure of inflicting this torture on me and all I can do is to sit here in my armchair, helpless, pityful.
The day they set your body on the pyre, I did not cry or bids you a final goodbye, but simply watched you leave. So you left - finally and this time it was not a blackmail. You remember how we used to fight over every tiny single piece of shit that was once a part of our life and when you couldn't bring me round your views your only weapon was "I will leave you"- and now you finally did.
There were too many people out there, our family, relatives, friends- sharing their condolences with me - like I was the only joke to take all this and you left me to take it. I was so helpless that I couldn't even scream at you, because I knew this was all over and you would never come back. You would never quarrel with me about the colour of table clothes or the design of the furnitures, regarding the existence of God or what is good for breakfast- cornflakes or sandwich. Who will make fun of my fat round belly and force me to hit the gym, no one. And I know its not your fault. I let you into this - I killed you and I cant tell this to anyone. It does not matter whether you forgive me or not. I dont ask for any forgiveness - all I want is to be with you, here , in this home. My hands are stinking in your blood and I keep smelling it again and again just to feel your essence - to make me belief you are here - thats the only feeling that is helping me to pass this compulsory unavoidable journey which would have been much easier with you by my side.