Am I so easy to forget? Or am I just too difficult to remember? When did I become such a distant memory in your mind?
There have been times when I sat by my window, watching the raindrops fall like that day from so long ago. Almost 30 years have passed and you still haunt my thoughts.
You used to hold my hand tightly, afraid of ever letting go — no matter what we were doing. You’d sometimes kiss my hands and say you’d hold them forever. You couldn’t imagine a life without me and begged me to always remember that.
There was that day, when you walked with me in the heavy rain. We didn’t have an umbrella and I shivered beside you. You didn’t hold my hand that day. You knew I had been crying. You knew you had hurt me, hurt me to my core. You knew you had let me down.
You were in love with someone of a different skin colour.
The world was different then. People spat at us. They called us names. They stopped being our friends and family.
Perhaps the world hasn’t really changed, has it?
I cried because I knew you would never understand me, my hurt, my sorrow. I knew you would never seek justice for me. I knew you would never think I was worth it. I didn’t want to hold your hand after that.
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