Moving On Or Moving Away?

Amidst the chirping of crickets and the obnoxious smell in the room, I turned my head to stare at the wall clock.

"2.15 a.m," I sighed.

The conflict between my mind and heart was getting worse with each passing minute. I was falling short of reasons. The struggle wasn't doing any justice.

"I might as well call him,"

"And then say what?" my conscience nudged me hard.

"I don't know..I'll figure out something. Or maybe we won't talk...maybe we'll just stay quiet over the phone like old times."

"Why is it so difficult to move on?" my conscience kept on badgering me.

My contemplation was my answer.

"It is so difficult to not live the moments again. To not be able to go back to what I thought was normal. To not be able to come back to an empty room. It breaks my heart to act. Every single night, I put down my armors because I'm so tired of defending myself from the pity. This roller-coaster ride of emotions is overwhelming every night. I don't want to go back to him. I just want to go back to the thought of how everything was normal."

Silence had finally fallen. The crickets too weren't there.

"And do you think this will help in bringing the normalcy in your life?" my conscience seemed to be brooding.

"No. But I might get one night where I don't lie myself to sleep," I picked up the phone and dialed his number.

The wall clock was ticking towards 3.30 a.m in the eerie darkness.

As the call got disconnected for the third time, I reasoned with myself, "He's probably asleep. Maybe some other night, I can call,"