I remember when you stopped being there for me. Just like all those times when you were. I am not biased. I am not unfair. I am just. I remember your presence and absence alike. But you were there for me when I could have done without you. And you decided to stop, when I needed you the most. May be, you thought you’ve been for me enough. May be, you thought it was time for me to grow on my own, to have my thoughts reverberate in my chaotic mind instead of sharing them with you, to have my broken heart crushed further and mold it into something else, to take control of my life. All. On. My. Own.
Or may be, I am being too optimistic about you. May be, you were simply not there for me.
I remember crying into the night, as the pillow absorbed my loud screams. I remember going numb and staring into nothingness. On some days, that, would be the most peaceful moment.
I remember creating walls, strong enough to shut people out. I remember creating walls, weak enough for you to walk right back in.
I remember wanting to forget things, to forget you. I remember failing miserably. Over and over again. I remember learning to live with it. I remember hoping not to die with it. I remember so many things and nothing at all, all at once.
If only, you too remembered a little something.
If only, you remembered me.