Returning the Keys

Today, I returned my keys to you. It marked the end of our time together in Bangsar. I looked at your room, ravaged by the leaking plumbing, smelling damp, and stacks of your books - the last of your belongings here in KL. I didn't even take a photograph of any of it. I had wanted to. But i didn't. Because i didn't want to remember it like that.

Even the mattress on the bed was gone. It was our bed. The bed we made love over and over and over again. The bed i would immediately lie on as soon as I came in through the door. The bed we cuddled and talked. I think the last time I lay on that bed, I had cried because I knew you were going to Penang. Even as I write now, the tears fall.

I didn't know then that that day would have been the last time I would have lain on that bed. Otherwise I would have perhaps treasured it more.

Anyway it is gone. And my hopes and dreams with it.