I left my eyes behind in the office and I decided to walk. Slipping into the flow of people hurrying home, or to wherever they were going, all I saw was a kinetic scene of blurred faces and bodies.

All I saw was a composite of the years that had gone away.

All I saw was nothing.

I don’t know you; I don’t want to know you. Don’t look at me, because I don’t want to look at you either. This frown, this frown I’m wearing, it’s to hide who I am. The boy who has to close his heart so that he can not know what it is like to be hurt.

This is the boy who, days and weeks ago, watched on at the love present between brothers, sisters and friends, and wondered how nice it must be if his own family was like that. And that, in the midst of those joyous moments, he guessed who would be there for his own day.

He didn’t dare to form a conclusion.

This is the boy, frowning, because he made a choice, twice, to walk away because he thought it better to not compromise. He thought that if she was not the right one for him, there was no point in trying to continue living days crafted out of false hopes and wishful thinking. He still thinks he is right. He is, he is. Eventually time will prove him right.

Except time has stopped moving for him and, as the world is speeding on by, he is walking alone to his own beat, with neither a destination nor a face to look forward to.