Spring Cleaning In Autumn

By Faiha Madhurakkariyan

“Waiting for you is like

waiting for rain in this

drought. Useless and disappointing."

Though Sam got her happy ending

in A Cinderella Story,

it's time I let you go.

Because waiting for you is

a lot like waiting for the rain to come.

That crisp October evening,

a plate of steaming hot pakodas.

I vividly remember dipping them in

red chutney and laughing at your jokes.

My clumsy heart fell hard for you.

That crooked smile. Unruly mop of hair.

Thick brows and long eyelashes.

How I snuck glances at you

while you slept, spent

after a 24 hour duty.

People deserve to know that they're loved.

So on a random Wednesday morning,

I texted you I was leaving soon.

You said we should meet.

I was already making up

fantasies in my head.

You promised to swing by on Thursday.

You never did. Not on Thursday or

Friday or Saturday. Being stood up

was new, but being stood up

three days in a row was a record.

It was painfully clear that

you weren't into me the way

I was into you. It was autumn

and I began spring cleaning.

The leaves are gone, you should be too.

I chucked your worn notebook

In the recycle bin. Pressed delete

on all the messages, the voice

notes you sent me, the ones I

used to listen on repeat

simply had to go.

Burnt the journal I rambled

pages and pages about you.

I swept the floors of my broken heart,

replaced the jagged edges

with shiny new pieces.

After it was all done,

I cracked the windows open,

lit a scented candle

And listened to Evermore.

I stopped by the cafeteria

three Thursdays ago.

The pakodas looked inviting

but I chose the banana fritters.

They were warm and syrupy sweet.

I closed my eyes and felt

a lightness wash over me.

It was closure.

By Faiha Madhurakkariyan