To The One Who Introduced Me To Love
I’m sorry. I hardly remember you. I don’t remember your face – it’s a masked ghost that haunts me and painfully so. I want to remember. I really do and I try, every day, but I can’t. What we had was too short lived and too long ago. Here’s what I do remember – how I felt with you. Just the feeling. Nothing else. The actions, what we did, are just distant stories. Fragmented. Broken. Lost. I felt welcomed and excited as you embraced me with open arms. I felt childlike and playful and reckless and free. I could be myself with you. One night. I spent one night with you. It was hot and crazy and I don’t regret it. I regret not being with you longer. I regret not exploring you more, not getting to know you inside and out. I wish I could because you taught me something that I will always remember. You taught me to love the world. I’ll come back, Dubai because you were the first and I never want to forget you.
To The One Who Made Me Realize I Couldn’t
You were loud. You were soft. At times, you smelt as sweet as jaggery. At times, you reeked of sweat. You were the wild card. Up and down, I twisted along the paths you paved. Perhaps, I loved you because you forced yourself down my throat. We were a clock. I tried to run by the minute, but you were faster, beating the seconds. Tuk-tuk. Tick. Tock. I saw you every day. You were with me every night. You weren’t always there in person, but in thoughts. You called. I came. You said you were home. You weren’t. You were selfish. You cared for yourself. In your abode, there were ragged-dressed children, arms outstretched for alms. You never looked at them. Your disinterest rode cold and cruel. You wanton man. You had your share of lovers. You watch them bustle in the market streets and savor the food you pawn. There was no room for me in that life. I know you. You saw me as something less, not more. I was always less than you. You would never treat me equally. Goodbye, Hyderabad. I’m not coming back.
To The One Who Got Away
You drove me crazy in a way that made me want you more and more. I stayed up all night thinking about you. I thought about the way my body could rest in your warm, golden sands forever. I loved the way my feet felt in your waves, which crashed over me, drowning me in your rhythm. Ahhh, the music we made. Quick, upbeat tones and banging drums raced through my ears constantly. I could have danced all night in your streets. You were kind. You were sweet. You were hot. I should have never left you. I should have clung on. But I was young – too young to realise that what we had was special – that what we had was true love. I was too young to realise that you were perfect – too perfect. You did fine without me. You moved on, like you always do. I haven’t. I left because I wanted to explore others and for the first time in my life, I will admit that I made a mistake. I never got over you. I probably never will. I’m sorry, Kingston. You made me feel like a queen and I threw away the crown.
To The One Who Played With My Heart
Postcards and movies boast your name and your signature poses. I snap a picture here. I snap a picture there. I’m here within your walls, but you’re too much for me. Everyone is in love with you, even those who haven’t met you. They see your skyline and they are gone, lost in a land of wanderlust. I’ve had the pleasure of getting to take a peek under your blanket of attractions. I know you have a lot to offer. Yet, I also know how you lure all to your premises. You take the innocents, like me, by the hand and promise to show us the world. Come and see a Broadway Musical, you say. So I do and so do the others. Have a picnic with me in Central Park, you say. So I do and so do the others. You are a mix of everything I desire – strong, cosmopolitan, and diverse. But I’m not the special one – you are. I can only admire you in the same way the others do. There is no room for intimacy in your walls so I must leave, my dear Manhattan.
To The Small Town One Who I Fell in Love With
I have no idea why I’m drawn to you. You are normal in appearance. Your idea of fun is dinner at a quirky local restaurant and a movie. I’m a girl with restless feet, and somehow, you’ve managed to capture my attention. I don’t know how. Maybe, it’s because I’m tired of leaving. I’m tired of running. Maybe, it’s because I finally want to settle down. That’s a lie I feed myself though. I’m not settling. You know I won’t. You know I’ll leave you, but you still give me the chance to stop, rest, and catch my breath before I continue running to another one. You want to be there for me. You want to hold onto me for as long as possible.
You want me to explore every inch of you, until I draw a ragged breath and a few tears because you’ve stolen my heart. You feel like home, but I’m afraid that you will become my home, so I have to move on. Not now though. I’m staying a while. Though while I’m in your arms, I’ll be seeing others just to satisfy my travel appetite. You know I’m constantly leaving, but you know I’ll keep coming back. I’m more frightened by the day when I pack my bags and have to say goodbye for the last time. You’re not afraid though because you know that there will be another to replace me, but I know there will be no other to replace the warm, bubbly feelings you’ve stirred within me. Put a ring on our relationship and I might stay even longer, Frisco.
To The Next One
I don’t know who you are, but I’ll say this much: we’ll have an adventure together. Why? It’s in our nature. It is just what happens when we collide. I’ll see you, my love. I learn your name. I’ll learn your favourite bar. I’ll learn your favourite museum. I’ll learn where you go on Friday nights. I’ll learn everything and then, some more. And afterwards, I’ll move on again. Why? I’m a city-adulteress – fueled by wanderlust and a promiscuous need to love every city in the world (yes, I know it’s not possible but that doesn’t mean I won’t try).