Room

Human brains are so mysterious, you used to say. I didn't know what you meant with that. It took me months and the months to understand what you meant. Even now, you are not here, not here as I could see you. Not here as I could feel you.  Not here as I could smell you. Not here. I sit in the cold empty room trying to fill that room with my mind. But you are not here. It's so dark, I could not see the door. Is there a door? But it feels like I'm not alone in this room. The smell, the shape. The touch. It has been years but I still know your voice, it's echoing in my mind. But you are not here. I feel your warm like in the coldest winter nights. I smell your perfume like in warmest summer days at the beach. But you are not here. The room is getting smaller. I see your shape in front of the door. The door. I was looking for that door for years. And you found it. The room is getting smaller. I know how I can get out of the room, its devouring me. I know I have to kill you to get out of this room. Am I selfish? I stand up and walk to the door. Open it. I look behind and I can see you, I can smell you. But you are not there. I close the door which is so heavy that I lost all of my strengths. Door closing. I look at the closed door. I can't see you anymore, I can't smell you anymore, I can't feel you anymore. I step away from the door and walked away. You are not here.