Karma’s joke

I can’t bring myself to tell him that every day, I will my heart to move on, to forget, but still, it waits for him– with every single beat, it waits. It searches for him in every crowd, on every street, in every queue. It steers me to the places he loves–to his favourite sculpture, his favourite store, his favourite café–all the while playing his favourite tunes over and over again. I imagine his laughter, I see the little crease at his eyes when he smiles. the tilt of his head as he leans in to kiss me. I feel the weight of his hand on my thigh when I’m driving. I look over to the empty seat convinced I can feel the heat of his gaze. It seems I can’t forget him, for he is everywhere I go–he walked out but the love never did –that’s the cruellest of tricks. He could have at least taken the love with him when he left. I guess I’m being unfair– it was my decision for our love affair to end, it was me that said goodbye. But there are days when I forget why–when I wake up and I’m so angry at him for letting me go. Days where grief grips my throat choking the life out of me. Nights where the fire has left my lips, and the will and fight has left my soul. So, here we are–great gusts of wind blowing between us and all around us. And the cosmos, well the cosmos sent madam karma and she’s laughing great, big roars of laughter. Laughter so loud that everyone else thinks it’s the sound of thunder clouds chasing the storm, and we’re all out here bracing for the rain to fall. And while everyone is cursing the weather man for getting it so wrong, and tucking their umbrellas back in their bags, I’m sitting here with the precipitation

falling from my eyes because I’ve made a mistake. I let him go when all I wanted was to pull him close. And now I’m left with karma’s laugh, and the thunder clouds and the pouring rain and memories of what could have been, should have been and used to be. Regret, like karma… she’s a bitch.

Words Tabitha Lean Photography Mitch Ingham