Prose, On Forgetting

The hard glare of the fluorescent light. The shiny marble floor. The buzzing of the electricity. In that somber quiet waiting room. Avoiding eye contact. Deep breaths of frustration.

Grant Gregory in Orlando, United States

March 8th, 2015, 4am

It was 13.3°C with broken clouds. The breeze was gentle.

I wanted her gone. Every inch of every memory of her. The whole fabric of our time spent together. I wanted it unraveled. As if we never existed. The hard glare of the fluorescent light. The shiny marble floor. The buzzing of the electricity. In that somber quiet waiting room. Avoiding eye contact. Deep breaths of frustration. The anxious waiting. Fix me and make me better. As if you never existed. As if your smile didn’t light up my world. As if your touch didn’t make me feel. All the love I ever wanted. And I wanted to wait. In that room. I’d wait forever. I wanted her love. Now I need you gone. Like a cancer in my heart. Give me my fix. Go and stay gone.