On the broken lines of bold white, on the burning roads far away from home I knelt down in the heap of my skirt made of fairy dust and disappointments of all kinds.
I found a pretty crack with space enough to be something of its own and with a style that you’d agree with. With my fingertips already crying red I wrote you name in the best writing I could.
Your name that couldn’t fit beside mine, or the scorecards with better marks, or a business card that was not a part of scam, or with a number that could for once be reached, or the nameplate that you kept losing in the sleepy playgrounds of our eyes.
We missed you.
We missed you. in the conversations where we thought only of you and yet couldn’t speak of you. We thought of you always with an ache, always with a heart that wanted more of you while wanting to forget the little that we had.
I wrote your name and ran my fingers over them again. A kid knelt down beside me offering me a smile as he took in a pain he couldn’t understand. Today, of all days, I was not allowed to smile.
I walked away wondering if he knew you, if he now lives in your name, if he knows someone who wrote like me, who wrote words that will fit nowhere but here. Your name could be anybody else’s. You could have lived like everyone else and yet…
You held me as I broke again and again. Your warm chest tried to hold me, to keep me alive. I couldn’t cry anymore I felt indebted to you I loved you.
You left me again in the crowd that you promised to protect me from. I called you, your number and you name- becoming useless to me with each passing day. I cried because I felt cheated I loved you.
As my heart filled again, as it emptied itself out you stayed in front of my eyes in flesh or in glowing illusions, telling me, nothing is wrong with me. So I slept peacefully because you made me forget my incompleteness I loved you.
You told me love is supposed to be a pain anyway. That this smile of mine that shined in spite of your mistakes, in spite of your cruelty on my weary hopeful heart was the only thing that made you believe in my love. And again I smiled back so that you continue to believe me because I loved you.
There were moments, glorious ones, when you were the most the beautiful human, when you cried for me, when you cried for the world, when you tried to do something right. I wanted to stand beside you so that I could protect you somehow because I loved you more for it.
But now I must face the world and myself alone, without having to become something right in your eyes. Now I don’t have to round up my every feeling to a variant of love. Now I can care for you, hate you and see it as care and hate and a frustration without an end. Now I can see you as the miracle and as the failure that you are. Now I can be a failure myself.
I am not good at loving in the past. I can only be honest. Now I cannot look back at you and call you my heart. You were so much to me that I badly wanted to be something that you want. I kept on sleeping to keep your dream intact and calling this love, when it clearly was not. Even though it was probably something better than that.
Now that we are an year apart. Now that everyone has been talking about new beginnings and second chances, I let myself be myself, let myself be swayed at the hope, at the thought of the ONE.
But being myself also means to be keep my heart broken. It means to leave every crowded room to find the corridors where I can be finally alone with the mistakes I am about to make.
I hold someone who could have been you but is not. I cry the same tears that once made you pity me. I jot down a name and a number and a weakness, a need where I could fit myself into.
And as I lay in bed I feel something sad and beautiful in my heart- an end that I am creating for myself. This is how love has always been for me, so I let it be and smile as I kiss another stranger who won’t be able to save me from anything.
You are gone and I try to hold the spoon like you used to. I chew my food with my left molars as you did. The ghosts that I have wronged, that I have forgotten now include half of my teeth, teeth you would have never used.
You are gone and you are happy (probably). So I memorize name and phone number of your every friend, I recall the fondness you had for them. I wear your feelings when I meet them, I wear your feelings even when they won’t fit me. I wonder if they noticed how I was spilling at some places, how I was non existent in other folds- folds that used to hold you so well.
You are gone and I am gone (or that’s what I think). I am my work, I am my songs, I am the adjectives you made for me, I am the report cards, I am the dust that settles on it, I am the afternoon TV shows, I am the language I don’t understand. I am what I am fond of. I am mostly just you.
You are gone and I fear there is no one that can stop me from growing into you.
i am a girl who reads too much between lines, especially yours. and your words, they were cold but they were warmer than the pages they were written on. and since i wanted to love you i tried to see your world as one big adventure even when my heart was filled with fear. i tried to do things that might make you happy, to say the words that might put you at ease. though i suffered greatly, being with you made up for everything, or so i thought. but in the hope to be loved i bent a little too much forgot where to stop, i went overboard with the idea of sacrifices and promises and forgot to look at the blood and life i had lost.
“one day he would grow up, one day he would realize, one day his love for me, would actually feel like love“- were the words i lived by. but isn’t it pathetic that even when i have no use for these words, even my soul is more sore than alone, at night when i count the pieces of me, and the numbers just won’t add up, the thing that i am most sad about is that i was so easy to love and yet you couldn’t.
A pane breaks somewhere far away. Everyone precious to me stays there- this place called ‘far away’. So these things I must record, these things I must remember
“it could have been a stranger”, I try to reason. But it is of no avail. I am afraid that the life broken just now, must be too close to me for my heart to bleed so, for my hands to go limp.
The nights I read every book on ‘how to hide this incurable pain from my family’, they flash in front of my eyes. That is all I see when I dial their number and they don’t pick up. That is all I see when they pick the call and tell me that they can never be ‘not fine’. That is all I see when I see holes in their stories, when I see a new hole in their smile every morning.
yesterday, coincidentally i met the couple that always looked cute together. the ones i thought will be together forever. yesterday, i was sad for the first time that they are together even after so many years. that they made something out of their love, when we can’t.
as i smiled at them and asked them about their wonderful life, i didn’t feel happy at all. i wanted to just find you and ask you “why couldn’t you give me this happiness, why you had to be as weak as me”.
and when they asked about you i had to lie that you are doing well. when they asked if we could all meet up, i gave them my old number that no longer works. they were so happy, that it ruined my whole day.
so yesterday was another day when i learnt that i am not a really nice person. i could see why you didn’t like me enough.
please don’t ask me how my friend is doing. we broke up. we broke up the most decent way friends can break up. without deceit, without betrayal, without cruel words or bloody knife on our backs, without stories to hurt each other with, without attempts to patch up things, without deleting each other’s number that we never bothered to memorize. i do not remember her till someone says her name and when the sound of her name finds me through a stranger’s lips, i do not feel bitterness. i not miss her. a part of my heart is glad that life didn’t turn her my enemy but a part of me wonders how she turned out to be nothing in my life. when i see facebook notifications with her name, when i get a reminder of her birthday, when she calls me up once in a blue moon to ask a favor for “her friend” without bothering to ask how i have been, what is it that am i supposed to feel? i think it should hurt in some way. i am waiting for it to hurt. i am waiting to realize the meaning of this loss. i am waiting for the day I miss her. i want to miss her so much.
when you slipped into my arms and tried to tell me stories in your broken language, when you got all your numbers wrong, when you touched my face with your tiny hands, i almost forgot that you are not mine.
i wanted to say please don’t drag my god into your selfish quest for power. please don’t turn my god into a tool to manipulate mind. but i couldn’t say those things for my god was no longer my god, he/she belonged to people who were ready to accept any lie, any cruelty to propagate their beliefs and their way of life to protect their gods (or so they say). so i had no choice but to cut myself from this doctrine of power and numbers. not to protect my god, but to protect my mind and myself, to protect my faith in the endangered humanity when all i face are the proofs of its non-existence, when all i find are people who think shaming people and spilling blood is god’s work. maybe it is selfish but i want to remember my god as someone more kinder.