Of Forevers And Faraways

“Promise you’ll stay in contact,” I muttered. “Call me twice a day and talk about anything. I promise I’ll be there to listen. Don’t hesitate.”

“Okay, I will,” he said. “But you’re not going faraway, are you? You can always return, can’t you?”

I nodded, unsure of the promises I kept making.

“No, it’s not that faraway, I promise. You can come visit me anytime. And then, there’s Skype too! We won’t lose contact even for a moment!”

“And you’ll be there, right, forever? You’ll have my back?”

“I will.”

“Will you miss me?”

A blaring horn cut us off and the train stood in front of us. For a second, I was relieved I didn’t have to answer that question.

Will I miss him?

No.

I’ll cry on Saturday nights and Sunday mornings, wishing for him to be there. I’ll buy enough snacks for both of us, and then sit down and eat in silence because he won’t be there. I’ll bring his favourite chocolates from the l store and save them so that I can give it to him when I come back home next. I’ll do everything we did together, but I’ll never bring myself to cry and miss him ten times more.

“You didn’t answer?” he mumbled. “Will you miss me?”

I looked away, blinking back tears.

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