Blues by long distance

I need to be distracted, so the doctor said. I need to look for a refuge in something not related to you. So, what do I do? I sit by the old record player and dust it off , at the same time trying to fix it to a certain extent. It doesn't help. Even Miles Davis doesn't seem the same. One more sigh, and my focus on the record player decreases. Why are you not here anymore? Its like somehow the distance is no longer the factor to your sudden disinterest. It is no longer an excuse to why I can't let your deep baritone soothe me to sleep and make my pulse race at the same time. No longer is your smile instantaneous by the mere mention of my name. Where did it all go? A thousand reasons come to my mind, as causes of your sudden reclusive being. Maybe the beautiful city engulfed you in it so much, you didn't want anything to do with the city anymore, or the people in the city. Maybe some kohl rimmed beauty knocked you off your feet, and you pranced around her , making my presence fade away slowly. Maybe your conscience hit you, and you realized that my only 19 year old appearance doesn't appeal to you anymore. True, I am still a kid on the inside, but at one point every tantrum that 'kid' threw was the one which made your day. Not that its a good thing. I feel my throat tighten and my nostrils sting. Any minute now, the salty liquid would form a river and I'd slip into the same state of being I was some 3 hours ago. 

There were days when the mere mention by you, of looking at me, would make my insides tingle. When the way you talked , could make me feel alive again. What I feel now, is a mere obligation in the name of a relation between you and me. It is flaccid , it is dull , it is sheer monotony. Now your voice, no matter how very rare I get to hear it, is like the constant stabbing of my heart, the wounds only beginning to heal, before you inflict on them again. Your every word seems a farce, and so does your identity. Maybe the charisma of yours was just portrayal. Maybe you were a deceiver all the while. Maybe...

I don't ask for your pity and neither for your attention as formality. I ask for a reason, for this betrayal. I ask for a reason for your indifference. I ask how it doesn't bother you anymore. I ask for the sudden disappearance, and thus my melodramatic response. I am a kid at the end of the day, and the imbalance you have caused, or so to say your 'presence' has caused was never needed. You could have walked away , or rather you should have walked away. Left only the signs of a wound, and not have ripped off the flesh instead. It'll heal , but the mark remains , to be eternal.

My doctor says I need a distraction. I say I need a chance at redemption. To redeem myself, as to why I ever believed in something so superficial, so almost plastic and artificial. 

.....

You, however, good sir, need to get yourself checked. For instability and for a possible chance of dementia.