A happy picture of you surfaced on my wall. Pitiless Facebook knows we are not friends, it knows our past, it knows everything and yet fails to act like a mature adult, who knows everything and pretends not to. That picture staggers me, it makes me shudder. I will not deny the opportunity to feel like shit, again. Since that feeling resonates with the time I spent with you. So I decided I would love you from afar, love you without touching you.
And I know if I love you, I should let you move on. Peacefully.
I thought growing up and graying hair would help find answers my heart’s been seeking since we were kids. Now, it’s contemplating if there are any answers at all. If age was supposed to bring wisdom, my quota has been handed over to someone else. Year after year, from writing painful, soul-wrecking letters to ones filled with lovely cute nothings, we’ve done it all. And the last letter tells me you are getting married; to her.
Over these years I collected things and memories about you, preserving them like a scared script. I thought these would be wonderful old-school stories I’d tell our kid. Looks like human foresight is the worst of them all! Now, here I am with an archive of things about you, without you.
Is green still your favorite color? Honestly, I don’t even want to know. I’m tired of adding things to this secret place I can’t revisit anymore. So, let’s add these questions to the list of weird fetishes that bothered you. Like the one where I’d spend hours in libraries with horrible cell phone network.
I want to hear you describe me to her. Do you still use those words, you called me with, or have I become the antonyms of them now?
Has her birthday made it to your cell phone password?
Does she pretend to enjoy outdoors just because you love waking up to the mountains?
Do you still lose sleep over unanswered phone calls and unanswered texts?
Is her muddled name a part of your WiFi password, your naive parents don’t know about?
Do you still lie to your father about your early morning meets?
Is work still the reason your mom thinks you stay out late at night?
Does your best friend still cover up for you when you’re on your date nights?
Does she force herself to listen to random indie artists just because you hate mainstream music?
Has she seen you build an empire and fail at it?
Has she instilled faith to jumpstart your dreams, yet?
Does she know the side of the bed you love or the aisle seat you can’t watch a movie without?
Does she see through your lies but believe them nevertheless?
Does she cry as often as I did? Do you ask her to shut up too?
Do you love her hair as much as you loved mine? Have you asked her not to cut it too?
Would you travel miles to see her in your favorite dress of hers?
Does she love you enough to heal the wounds you were born with?
Have you told her about the monsters that have never left your head?
Does she hold you tight enough to make you forget the insecurities you use jokes to hide?
Does she know that when you say you’ll call back, you almost never do?
Has the voice you love waking up to become hers now?
Has she seen you mock people you admire, just for their attention?
And that you’re a compulsive liar only because you don’t know any better?
Have you changed for her? Are you finally doing all those things we fought over?
You’re the first person I loved. And you single-handedly ruined it all. Now I have no expectations. Thank you for clearing way for all the men who’d eventually make their presence felt in my life. Everything they do in the name of love will be extraordinary because once you’ve hit rock-bottom the only way left to go is up.
I’d think of you as my first manuscript that was rejected no matter how many changes I made; only to understand a changed crust didn’t change the crux.
Its time to say those magical words: