We Haven’t Danced In The Kitchen Yet
Do you remember the time when we were talking about living together? You said you don’t mind whether it’s a small apartment or we build a house from scratch. “As long as I’m with you” — the phrase that I still remember other than an “I love you” from you.
We fantasized about coming home from work and everything. And how you would wait for me ’cause it’s usually me that working out late. You’ll cook for dinner and I’ll wash the dishes. You’ll do the laundry and I’ll change the bedroom sheet. We’ll have karaoke every Friday night, and watch movies on other nights.
You see? A perfect future for the perfect us.
But the rain down the earth pretty heavy, a burden we can no longer carry. And we both fall like leaves from the tree, slowly but surely.
What happened to us?
I can still hear your voice, echoes in every corner of the room. Your scents in our living room, and your shadow in everywhere I go. The kitchen cabinets are still empty, only the refrigerator light keeps me company.
The wall turned cold ever since your smile leaves what we once called home. I’m haunted by the memories that we have created. If only the ceiling could talk, come by and sit by my side. Listen while it tells you story about how I try so hard to forget you. ’Cause I can’t speak anymore, the sound of my heart has been gone.
We haven’t danced in the kitchen yet, me and you. Though I chose the floor very carefully, so we won’t hurt ourselves. But how pathetic, that I caught myself dancing with your shadow the other night eventually.
