The (Lost) Last Words
By: Saqib Noor
Tags: Short Story, Sad, Fiction, Love, Lost

Photo by Tom Pumford on Unsplash

He wrote of words he wished he had said. He wrote the words he now could no longer say. He wrote all the difficult words that were now far too easy. He wrote the easy words that had now become so difficult. He wrote fluently. He wrote passionately. He wrote furiously. He described in perfect detail every indescribable moment. He remembered and wrote every forgotten memory in vivid colors. He wrote all the words that made him happy, the words that made him shine. He wrote all the words that made him choke, that made him panic, that tightened his chest, the words that made him breathless. He wrote the words that kept him up at night, the words that broke his heart and those very words that would fix it again. He wrote the words that meant nothing and everything to him.

He wrote of all his childhood memories and how grateful he was for them. He smiled when he described the times he was lifted, tickled and spun towards the stars. He described the hopes that kept his eyes bright in darker times. He whispered in words the secrets he had hidden for the longest time. He recalled the memories of courageous smiles and beautiful laughter in the times of greatest sadness. He held onto the moments of tenderness and togetherness with a description of the warmest hug that he could no longer feel.

He wrote of the saddest days that had no sun. He wrote of the times he hid under the bed and cried in his own darkness. He remembered looking for the light, staring at the stars and being overwhelmed in solitude.

He described his regrets, his mistakes, his follies. He apologized for them. He apologized for not listening. He apologized for not understanding. He apologized for arguing without reasons. He apologized for not being the best he could have been. He apologized for raising his voice. He apologized for apologizing. He apologized again then asked for forgiveness somehow.

He wrote the passion of his love. He described flying with birds and soaring under a blazing sun. He described the vast landscapes of the world he had seen and how it would never end. He recalled how it ended. He wrote about crashing to the ground and the time he dented the car door in the oncoming smash.

He analysed all that he had squandered. He calculated how much he owed and asked how it would be possible to pay back all that was given to him. He promised he would learn. He promised he would listen. He promised to stop breaking promises.

He described his wishes for the future and the steps he would take, however backward, he would go forward. He wrote all the words for the very last time. He drew a star, a moon and a boy waving goodbye.

He folded the letter once. He folded it twice. He folded it thrice and unfolded it again. He reread it, gasped, panicked, threw it away, picked it up and re-folded it again. He took the deepest breath and on one side he sealed the words with a kiss and on the other, a falling teardrop. His tears became the rain and the rain became his tears. He placed the last words on the freshly dug ground, he placed the lost words in his broken heart, he whispered his goodbyes and walked away.