Do you know how something is just not meant to happen but it
happens all the same knocking your senses away? You can only change what you’re
feeling, you cannot undo how you once had been. You cannot undo the midnight
sneaks, the three AM distress calls, the very first two-wheeler rides, bellows
in the air, the wind in your hair and jokes that make sense only in your private
once-existing world. Your world with her. You can only persuade yourself to forget, convince yourself you've forgotten but do you really, do you really forget everything? Do you forget anything at all?
You don’t because memories, they stay.
They stay because they’ve been built upon something so strong, something so beautiful.
Something that can’t be uprooted, something so profoundly engraved. You lived
those moments, you lived and you could breathe and you felt so alive. It was
how when you were with her, you felt brainless and wonderful. You didn’t care
about anything and you didn’t care about her because you knew she belongs to
you. A person who is yours without a label, without strings, without
displays, without clauses and without pretenses.
Well, seasons approach and changes startle.
I should like to believe our story merely toggled to a fresh weather.
I stormed into a path of my own, she breezed her way through hers. And today, I
have melodies of my own, places I go to, things I love, sights I take in. She has hers. We do
not belong to each other’s lists and it surprises us both. I do not even know
if our hymns brush her mind any longer but they do sweep mine and I just wanted
to sing it for her, for one last time. Then I would really have to leave,
though. But I’ll sing it for her one last time, yes, I will. She’s to become
this one song for me today and she should have become a lot, lot more. Because she was one thing so right, that space between us was one thing so
genuine and it’s a pity it had to snow this bad.
But it happened, it snowed and we froze without wanting to.
I can barely behold beyond the white now.
Sometimes, I try to sweep the mist away and guess the figure behind the haze. It
doesn’t work because it’s become too hazy for the eye. And for the heart, for