I lost you
Bit by bit
One folly at a time
And with each tear that followed.
I lost you
A little every month
December, May & October
April and again in December
I lost you
Like one loses time
One moment culminating into another
Until one is not left with any more.
I lost you
Like one loses precious hair
Every single day
But thinks it’s okay.
I lost you
Memory by memory
Or may be all at once
You just hid it very well.
I lost you
Or did I?
May be it was you who lost
While I, just loved.
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.
He: So, this is it?
She: If you need to ask me, it isn’t.
He reached for her hair and kissed her like it was their last, hoping that it wasn’t.
He: You’ll find someone who loves you more than I ever did.
She: If only, it was enough. If only, being loved meant everything. If only, being someone’s only reason for happiness meant ecstasy. If only, being someone’s life made life worthwhile. If only, having someone meant being someone’s. If only.
He: Then what matters?
She: Bringing out the crazy in someone. You’re my ‘crazy’. No one will ever be.
He: I will miss you.
She: I wish you didn’t have to.
He leaned forward and kissed her forehead. She watched him walk out the door. If only, he walked out her heart. If only.
You know how you love someone so much that you always think of him/her before you think about yourself? Yeah, that’s how much I love myself. Now, to the world that runs after love, I may sound like a selfish obnoxious narcissist. But to my very own self, I come across as a person who’s madly in love, like any other super human being such as Jack Dawson or Noah Calhoun . Only, I am in love with the person that resides within me. I understand myself. I support myself. I care about myself. I worry about myself. I keep myself happy. I encourage and motivate myself to be a better person. Once in a while, I pamper myself. I get angry with myself when I do something wrong. I cry with myself. I console myself. I protect myself. Loathe myself. Love myself. I feel all those things for myself that others want to feel for someone for the rest of their lives. Many people die without ever feeling that way about someone. I, on the other hand, have realized that I have spent twenty one years of my life living with that feeling. Does that make me incapable of loving someone else? I don’t think so. Does that make me incapable of loving someone else the way I love myself? Oh dear God, I hope not!
It’s a different feeling leading to the same old pit. One more time. A feeling of comfort and peace. A feeling of safety. Of love. Of belonging. Of eternity. Eternity is a beautiful word. It’s funny how a word can be that deceptive! Painfully funny. It’s also amazing how this one word can ornament your thoughts, your feelings. It makes you believe that a feeling would last. Forever. Sometimes, you write it down. Or you talk about it. And then, later, when your feeling has eloped with time, you try to remind yourself what it feels to feel the way you felt.
Too late. Too deceptive. Too painful.
A lot of people seem to think that their love for someone causes them to be sad. In fact, they think, they are sad because they are in love with someone. But love doesn’t make you sad. Love is a happy feeling. It makes you nothing but happy. It makes you feel in a way you have only read about in novels. Even better, it introduces you to new feelings! Feelings, that wouldn’t have come to you had you not been in love. And those are all happy feelings.
To love someone, and just love someone, not desire, lust after, expect from or possess, just love, is truly magical. The other feelings could be enchanting too, but then there’s always a high, very high risk of heartbreak. But in love, you have nothing to lose. Instead, you gain – all the wonderful feelings, expression, happiness, content, energy, inspiration and if you’re really lucky, the love of that someone you love. If you carefully read the terms and conditions of love, which I can bet my life on, you don’t, you’ll find that love is a standalone feeling and it doesn’t makes it mandatory for you to have any other feeling coupled with it under any circumstances. Why? Because love (and only love) relates to the soul. All other feelings relate to the body.
The world serves you theories on a plate even before you’re born. A vital part of growing up is at least garnishing them the way you want or better, making a new one for yourself. Like I just did.
PS. I hope I am back.