MC's Whispers

Whispering Silences

Archive for the tag “what if”

Sleepless night thoughts

© Roger Bultot

Do you ever wonder what would happen if you had taken a different path? If you chose something else? If you hadn’t accepted the invite for a dinner date? If you had not walked into the café of bookshop the day and moment you did?

How different would your life be otherwise?

What alternate road you would have been all?

What if things had turned out better?

But what if they were worse?

You’ll never know.

But it would be among those thoughts that pester your mind on those sleepless nights.

What if we’re actually supposed to be right here?

Also part of Friday Fictioneers


That indecisive moment

Continuity-KeypadCallie was standing in the room in silence, phone in hand. Her mind was a movie theater, replaying all the moments she had spent with him over the past four years. She remembered everything so vividly, it was as if she could see it all projected right in front of her. Every emotion felt, the ups and downs, the thrill, the excitement, the sensations in all their glory. But also the heartbreak, the fights, the arguments, the sorrow. She could feel it deep into her marrow. Now she was standing there pondering what to do.

She missed him. She missed the life they had. She missed sharing her joy, her success, her anguish, her pain with someone who understood simply by looking into her eyes. She had gotten so used to him being the one to talk to about everything that now she felt she was returning to a house of silence, like a protagonist in a silent film.

Her fingers dialed his number mechanically. Some things are so imprinted in your heart and mind that even if you try to forget you can’t. Like phone numbers of loved ones. (Yet your pin number you keep forgetting.)

All she had to do was press the little green symbol that would dial.

But she froze.

She wanted to call and tell him how much she missed him. How she longed for him every day. How she yearned for their conversations like a trapped mouse yearns for cheese. How she ached to feel loved again, to feel an array of emotions flood her system and make her happy and not simply content. How she craved for an exchange that was more real than any online interaction could ever be.

Nothing was the same now. It is inevitable for people to move on in their careers, in their lives. To strive for more. To engage in new things. To embark on new adventures. But it is also a human weakness and a simultaneous strength for us to desire to share everything with a partner. And that perhaps is the thing we long for the most.

Her finger lowered onto the button.

But what if? What if he didn’t want to talk to her? What if he had already moved on? To a new job, to a new life, to new interests? The ache was unbearable. The negative what ifs of her mind soon suppressed and quashed any positive hope her heart had created.

Her finger pressed cancel instead.

And nothing changed back.

Call me Rain

rain windowThe rain started pouring down heavily now. As if the skies suddenly opened and a bucket of water was swung out forcefully. The only sound that could be heard in the room was that pit pat the drops made as they smacked the freshly cleaned windows and trickled down leaving a curvy life-line path behind them. “Why does it always rain when I clean the windows?” thought Miranda, as she sat on the window-side pouf listening to the rain.

She loved sitting inside when it rained. There was something magical about being engulfed in the warmth of your home when outside the gods of wind and rain were lashing out their wrath against nature and mankind.

But above all, she loved the melancholy that came with the dark rainy days. It was a period that made you think. That made you reminisce on your life and consider what you are doing, where you are going. The ‘what could have beens’, the ‘what still can be’, the ‘what ifs’. And it all spread inside an emotion of sweet gloom. One that caused tears to well up in her eyes.

Watching the rain coming down outside and gathering up in piles all the dirt off the roads and sidewalk, Miranda was also filled with hope. That the rain will pass, as will the bad times in her life. That her soul will be cleansed and she will come out stronger. Just as the clouds will pass, so the good times will return.

A doleful smile formed on her face as she let herself fall asleep wrapped up in a fleece blanket, to the lullaby of the gentle tapping of the rain…

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