But now I am not me anymore. Now I cannot hate myself like I used to before. Liking myself was never option, for me anyway. If only I could be one person with a constant heart, maybe then I could have understood myself with enough time, could have found the heart to see myself as a mere human that I am. But this, this possession of my body and my heart by a new unknown everyday is tiring. Today the loneliness that I couldn’t show, the songs I was supposed to forget, the kiss that never left my lips all become my new self. Tomorrow it will be something else. But it is a tiring relief to lose my hate to confusion.
An eternity waits for you. An eternity waits for me. It won’t be long before we meet each other. River beds go dry. River beds go dry, sparrows swallow seeds, the pots are broken, and will never be filled. But the eternity waits for us. A second, an hour walks slow, taunting me, but holding, holding a promise of tomorrow, a promise of you.
Don’t tell me of your love. Tell me you’ll leave tomorrow and stay a day more. Move an inch closer when I take your name. Let me not believe you sometimes and smile when I do. I don’t want love, but I will try to want it, if you try to want me slowly and cautiously. When you put on that random radio station let me stare at you as you dance, breathe as if I am not here, let me see who you are without this want for me. Smile when you catch my eye and kiss me if I smile back.
I regret to tell you this that the blue sky that you died for is not longer blue. It is painting its face with remains of our greed, with the colors of our wars. But it is still sort of fair. It is trying hard not to choose sides, not to become the flags that unites only those whose favorite words are ‘future’, ‘safety’,’money’, ‘greatness’, while they clutch in their hands the fate of people they don’t identify with- ‘burden’ they call them. ‘Fear’ is another favorite word of theirs. They don’t speak much of it, but it is most useful or at least that’s what I have heard from the ones we are no longer allowed to call out or even mock. I have lost every bit of my passive aggressiveness. Life has become more bearable now that my skin is not broken for making too much noise, now that we have learnt to hold each other’s tongue so that we may not lose more friends than we already have. I regret to tell you that your dreams will remains dreams and you might be one of the last to know how dreams felt in your eyes, how tomorrow used to change by effort.
The sun in your eyes sets so slowly. I need to remind myself that this is not the end. This is not the end. This is not the end. This is but a chasm left open for the love to see. For the love to see and for this love to grow into the darkness we hide from each other, from this world, from our own eyes. She loves me, she loves me not, she loves me today, tomorrow she may not, she will love me as long as she can. These are the words I got to say and suffer over, again and again. These are the words that made me walk a little bit more. Is there anything more beautiful than this? That you were the light, the wind, the silence, the flickering hope in my heart. How can I lose you, when you are all that I am.
i don’t want to move on from you, even though you are not what i want anymore. i can’t because i fear that i might start to love you again tomorrow. tomorrow – when it is already too late to take back words.
i did all that i must do and now no one asks me what’s next. thankfully, no one burdens me with with their dreams anymore. i am no longer a possible candidate for the worst, for taking over the misfortune of my mother’s life. i no longer have to worry about hurting my parents by being like them or living like them. thankfully, what bothers me, what eats me up is nothing that would keep anyone else awake and that is important.
in spite of this emptiness i write about and this loneliness that seems bigger than this world, all this do not stop me from laughing at jokes, craving for food that i shouldn’t eat, dreaming of another broken love with my only lover, from having a good time – that i will conveniently forget. nothing i cry about, no ailing that lives in me is too large to stop me from living.
i guess i carry an instability in my genes. if my eyes are in the color of sadness, i guess i got it from my parents. and they are lovely people who somehow raised me right in spite of having a tendency to mess up things and their sadness with life.
tomorrow i will probably hate them frequently again but they will nag at me when i reach home drenched in rain, will tell me sit straight and force me to eat what will keep me alive, will ask me to keep my phone down, and sleep a little bit more.
they will not ask what’s wrong and that will disappoint me, but they will let me do what i want to do (sometimes) and they will try their best not to wrong me. they will wish for my happiness, even if they have no idea what makes me happy and that is important.
because though i lived my extended teenage believing that i had no one, but it was not true. i saw no one and it is my fault. even when i thought i was not loved they have loved me silently. though it was a tiring love, it knew no end.
I kept typing and just when I thought this is it, this is what I want to say, 140 characters were over, the day had ended, you had closed your eyes, and turned your face to other side.
I told myself- ‘tomorrow, tomorrow i will tell you everything, tomorrow we will be happy. you may not love me again after i say all i need to say, but we will be happy, even if it’s on our own’.
I repeated this to myself as if i knew anything about your happiness. I repeated this as if I was counting sheep- sheep that have grown frail living on nothing but my words.
As another dark dream came to find me, I prayed that tomorrow may I forget all the words that can set things right. I’m afraid till the end I won’t change. I keep hoping that we keep walking together in this rain of sadness and hurt.