The deserter

He once roamed these halls with a babyface and blue eyes.  He seemed innocent.  He seemed pure.  He seemed so genuine and sincere.

But he’s gone now and we don’t know where he’s gone.  Deserted and run a muck.  I don’t know if he will ever be heard from again.

A few of us talk of the possibilities.. of the most ridiculous tales we can think of.  Paul Bunyon.  Mermen.  Sold to the circus.  Etcetera etctera.

It tugs my heart a bit despite it all.  We didn’t part on bad terms completely, but the sting still exists.  Once a friend, now disappeared.  And I’m left to pick up the pieces…

Except this was not a lover.  Not a relative.  Not a long time friend.

This was a stranger.  Like the last dutch man that entered my life, so follows suit.

The only thing I suppose I really can be sure of, is his name.  The rest?  I really don’t know what to believe.

At work people keep asking me where he is and what’s become of him.  At one point, I called him a friend.  Now?  He is but a memory.

I do not view myself as a horrific woman, but I am amidst a lot of separation goings on in my head.  Things I can’t write about here.  Things I will only write about when the time is right.

So when a line of people ask me about your whereabouts, I’m tired.

“I don’t know.” should be sufficient enough.

But yet they press on.  And I look all the more bad as I reiterate.

“I don’t know. And moreover, it’s not my responsibility to care beyond I’m sorry but I don’t know what to tell you, as it has nothing to do with me.”

And one day we will all be gone.. or moved.. I do not know, nor can I say.  But I can’t wait for that time, when people forget our association.  I needn’t be in the same pool as you… the deserter.

If only

If only

it were today.

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