Originally, this post was supposed to be a satirical piece revolving around an infatuated man. It’s deliberately lavish in detail and a little absurd in terms of emotions… yet, I discovered I can’t write about infatuation/unrequited love meaninglessly, and concluded with a more philosophical ending than I expected.

In italics are questions, following the “interview/interviewer” setting, but with a nameless interviewer. This is a combination of two challenges; an interview and foreshadowing. I imagine the interviewer to be his own conscience, or even another voice in his head.

Regardless, I still hope you find humour in his exaggeration and wordy literary expressions, even though some of them are cringe-worthy and reflect the embarrassment behind infatuation. It took immense effort to even write with so much figurative language, but it was just so fun. 🙂


After spending the last one year desperately craving a person, I discover it’s all a lie. They do not exist. Not in the literal sense, of course; no, her physical presence lingers at close proximity. However, her personality –her very essence– has vanished into the air like a wisp of smoke. She is gone. The soul I matched with my own, latched my heart onto and fixated my eyes upon, without the slightest temptation to avert my gaze, is an illusion.

But this invites a series of questions I’d rather leave unasked… could it be she never existed in the first place?

What did you love about her? 

The splash of freckles across her left cheek, the wry smile on her lips, and her hair cascading down her shoulder. Her warm heart and mature, unfiltered perception of the world; in her shadowed eyes lies a deep understanding of the world I live in, for I see, yet I do not observe. I will never reach her level of depth, extending further than a starless night.

With every breath she takes, I see a quiet sincerity, a promise of a world beyond my comprehension. Her sparkling eyes gesture trust, endless loyalty and devotion towards me, and her mouth, thin and demure, depict honesty that cannot be summarised, even with the use of every English word in the dictionary.

Perhaps I don’t deserve her, either, but the epitome of perfection is within arms’ length. She is my sunlight. She is the reason for my existence.

And what broke this illusion? 

In a dim alleyway, she pointed out the scars on my face, her laughter no longer sweet and melodious, but a shrill cackle. With a sunken tone, she slurred words of hatred towards my family and heritage, her own pain slithering in every word. Vicious. Unrelenting. The trust I perceived slides behind those droopy eyelids, and her insecurities, icy heart and bitterness becomes prominent.

She looks so small. This human being, this tiny thing I devoted countless hours admiring, destroyed my ideals, hope and love. Our entire future collapsed in a single fragment, and I gasp, a wingless bird drowning in an abyss.

But then, she whispers, “Please stay,” like a broken melody. Somehow, even amidst my rapidly increasing anger, I do not step away. For the longest moment, I stand.

We lock eyes in silence. The night grows darker.

Were you disappointed?

That is the greatest question of them all; how can one be disappointed with a person they never knew? To say I’m disappointed would imply I knew every thought in their heart, every feeling in their mind, and every nuance expressed by their deep, blue eyes.

Truthfully, I don’t know her full name.

Some facts I’ve acknowledged but dismissed an irrelevant, due to my own perception of her. Apparently, she tames lions in a seasonal circus, eats with no cutlery and has a vulnerable, immature side to those golden curls –all of these facts I tossed away, unimpressed by their implications and opposition to my own ideals. I reflected my desires in a woman and transferred them to a living one.

I fell in love with an idea, a dream, not a human being.

To answer your question, no. I am not disappointed. My ideals live unfulfilled, the cracks in her foundation grow wider, and her insults stab a tiny portion of my broken heart, but disappointment is reserved for after an awry relationship, not prior.

In that dark alleyway, with the moon sinking deeper into the sky, a new beginning arises. The dawn breaks through the sky, glimmers of sunlight warming our cheeks. Short-tempered, childish, bitter, cynical… words that describe her true self formulate in my mouth, but taste like nectar. How uncanny.

Despite my better judgement, I linger for her.

I stay.





12 thoughts on “Please Stay [FLASH FICTION]

    • I love the words you’ve used to summarise the piece! Each to their own interpretation 😉 My own take of the ending is that he remains for who she actually is, not the idea, but it can be interpreted so many ways.
      Thank you for stopping by! ❤

  1. Pingback: Interview | Blogged With Words

  2. Pingback: The Girl from Ljubljana | Zemogula

Leave a comment! They make my day. ♥

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s