...strange how somebody's absence can fill us more than their love ever could...
Throwback to an evening in May 2016.
"I think we forget things if we have no one to tell them to."
While watching 'The Lunchbox', I came across this line and as soon as I did, I looked at my best friend sleeping beside me. I kept staring at his face for a little while and wondered where we would be ten years from now and whether we would still be calling each other every time we would have something to share.
I have never been vocal about what certain people mean to me. And honestly, sometimes I wish I could, but it does not seem to make any sense- telling people about their importance and making them stay.
Telling people about what you could do for them, it takes away the innocence fro...
Dear Best Friend,
What exactly do I write to the boy who can read my mind?
You’re the only one who has seen first drafts of my poetry & my most uncensored, no filter self.
Because you get me.
You get that I must pause conversation once food arrives
because pizza deserves undivided attention.
You get my obsession with social media & are actually willing
to commit to a Snapchat streak.
You know my need to vent at 2pm about a particularly bad day at work & at 2am when overthinking has led me to believe my life is falling apart.
You also know that waffles & hugs are enough to fix both.
Where I end, you begin. Remember my birthday when I was far too gone to even walk straight? You made sure ...
I wonder what people see when they look at you. Do they see you for who you are?
laid it bare,
bury this grave
in the garden
What begins with a longing to meet always ends with an empty farewell...
...until next time
Dear 'A', this one is dedicated to you as it was inspired by the conversation we had 5 minutes before I started writing this letter.
Does it ever occur to you that conversations have a strange sense of memory? I mean, think of everything about a person whose absence has seemingly threatened to kill you and tell me about the first thing that you remember about them. You remember their physical features. But what hurts you more than remembering how they used to steal dreamy glances at your gleeful self are the conversations that you now make little sense of.
The senseless conversations that began with the story of that old lady screaming at you for a reason you could not remember and ended ...
Said to me last night
About how some
Moments can change
Lives, it made me wonder
About the one in mine.
Because long before
You told me that you
Were leaving. I
Remember asking if
You loved me the same.
And the moment you
Hesitated, waited for
My eyes to gaze away
For yours to hide,
He stares at me
Tugs at the ends of
My sunken heart
With a longing
For another voyage
To the completeness
Of the eternal forever.
Smiling back at him
My words find an escape.
"Wait for love if you have to
Because when it arrives
And it shall
Would make it stay. "
...that's when I realised what a true friend was. Someone who would love you- the imperfect you, the confused you, the wrong you- because that's what friends are supposed to do.
How the stars are placed in ordnance so perfectly in the sky,
You think of who created them and all the reasons why.
Besides the science of the universe, there must be a poetic side,
An artist much more articulate that you and I.
I sometimes watch them for hours and hours at a time,
Hoping to see a shooting star to wish away the pain held inside.
A reoccurring circulation that everyday we watch arise,
Every day we see it happen, but only a few of us realise.
It's almost become human nature to let this beauty pass us by,
We almost never take the time to admire the art that stands before our eyes.
A perception that is only seen through the vision of the wise,
Knowing there's somethi...
This letter is to you
The you that's had a rough week. The you that seems to be under constant storm clouds. The you that feels invisible. The you that doesn't know how much longer you can hold on. The you that has lost faith. The you that always blames yourself for everything that goes wrong. To you.
You are incredible. You make this world a little bit more wonderful. You have so much potential and so many things left to do. You have time. Better things are coming your way,so please hang in there. You can do it.
...of the nightmares that keep me up at dawn, you are the one I keep hoping to catch a glimpse of...
...I hope you fall in love with someone who never lets you fall asleep thinking you are unwanted...
...and maybe group pictures are the only place where we can be together...
...now that I think about it, I realise no one has ever broken my heart. They've broken my expectations...
More people need love. You don't need to try to change them. Just give them love and watch them heal and elevate.
I got a call at 4 last night. It was you. I couldn't remember the last we had made contact and all I could say to break the silence was a customary hello.
I could see you smiling at the other end, hearing the freckles in my nervous voice. I wondered why. It has been almost a year since our paths had parted. But I heard a cry. Your tears had found a way through the silence that followed.
I did not ask if you were fine. I looked at the clock and realised that you were not. Had she left? Wasn't the new city treating you well?
The details now feel hazy. Was it you who broke the silence with a singular syllable for an apology that lasted for a couple fifteen minute gaps? Or was it the alarm that...
...I don't know what's more tragic
that I keep looking for you wherever you go
that you're never there...
but a veil
fallen upon the fate
of a forever
that does not exist...
...and even the memories that once made me happy, I am scared to live them again...
I'm a paradox. I want to be happy, but I think of things that make me sad. I'm lazy, yet I'm ambitious. I don't like myself, but I also love who I am. I say I don't care, but I really do. I crave attention, but reject it when it comes my way. I'm a conflicted contradiction. If I can't figure myself out, there's no way anyone else has.
Do you remember the few things that mattered most to you when you were a little child? Like the evenings when your dad promised to take you out but brought chocolates instead because he was late from work? Or that little toy that you refused to let go while your mom would sing you a lullaby and put you into a peaceful slumber? I have traces of these implanted into me but I cannot seem to remember them anymore.
Why then, do I remember every detail about our conversation that, according to you, never happened? I cannot seem to recall the incidents that led to our demise. I might have buried them somewhere, when I tried to let go of you. But every time that song comes up as a topic of discussio...
Try to love yourself as much as you want someone else to.
I am trying.