A Letter I Wouldn’t Send

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Words are just words; plain and bland. They don’t feed my soul or my brain. They are like an ingredient to a lavish recipe. But, this great recipe doesn’t get cooked well or isn’t cooked at all. Because, words are just words; plain and bland. But, the ones that come from you; just the sound of them is what makes all the difference.

You have been so special. You’ve taken a hidden spot in my heart and I’ve taken a temporary seat in your brain. Yes, this is the true definition of the love that is ruthlessly destructive.

Someone told me, “There is nothing big that a man cannot handle.” But, he forgot that man is destructive and is destructible. At least, emotionally destructible. Sometimes, he lets things and people destroy him. And, at other times, he does it himself.

When I think of it; humanity and mankind and the mere existence of humans; I dislike it all. I dislike it as much as a human would ‘hate’ it but hate is too strong a feeling to contain. How could I forget that I am human too? More importantly, how could I forget that I didn’t dislike you? And, for the times I told you, ‘I don’t like you,’ I said those words with all the love that I could contain. And you knew. You knew all along that I do, that I do like you.

“You hugged me
like no one did.
That’s a place to go to.
That’s a place to be.
That’s home to me.
Love, you’re home to me.”

I fit in perfectly, my height didn’t match yours. That was how this was supposed to be. Remember, how long we stayed like that? I hid my face and you wrapped your arms around and tucked me in, closer. Remember how we kissed when the sun kissed us through the cotton curtains of your room? Remember how you sang so loud and I shyly sang along? Remember how you made me believe in promises after asking me to promise you some? Remember how looked at me and told me not to look at you, all along? Remember how you didn’t like holding hands and would still land upholding mine? Remember how we laughed at ourselves for long?

Do you remember how you were to me? Remember how I was to you? Remember how we used to be?

I remember sharing coffee with you. The times that we’ve had; the beach walks and the unending talks, the food we ate and the booze we drank. It’s been a year to us. It’s been a year of early mornings and late evenings and things I fail to put in words. It’s been a long journey and we’ve come so far. I remember our song and how we eventually sang it loudly together for one another.

When life leaves you high and dry
I’ll be at your door tonight
If you need help, if you need help.
I’ll shut down the city lights,
I’ll lie, cheat, I’ll beg and bribe
To make you well, to make you well.

When enemies are at your door
I’ll carry you away from war
If you need help, if you need help.
Your hope dangling by a string
I’ll share in your suffering
To make you well, to make you well.

Give me reasons to believe
That you would do the same for me.

And I would do it for you, for you.
Baby, I’m not moving on
I’ll love you long after you’re gone.
For you, for you.
You will never sleep alone.
I’ll love you long after you’re gone
And long after you’re gone, gone, gone.

It was so easy back then. My favorite days were the ones that we spent together. I loved holidays because we did that more often. I was so happy. I dreamt dreams, slept like a baby and escaped the wild nightmares.

I still have it. I have dreams. They are like kites. But, today I don’t know how to fly a kite. Life changed for us like how life changes for everyone. But, maybe you are the same and I didn’t know you all along.

“You hugged me
Like no one did.
That’s a place not to go,
That’s a place to flee
That’s a place to be,
Not to stay.
That wasn’t home to me.
Love, you can’t be.”

I thought you were getting closer. And, you were to not just me. There was always somebody else along and there’ll always be. But, look around because the spot you had for me, I’m leaving it empty.

Words are just words; plain and bland. They don’t feed my soul or my brain. They are like an ingredient to a lavish recipe. But, this great recipe doesn’t get cooked well or isn’t cooked at all. Because, words are just words; plain and bland. But, the ones that come from you; just the sound of them is what will never make me a difference.

 

 

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Aekta Khubchandani

A doodle artist, a basketball player and a crow lover. She has her mind travelling to places unknown but, she loves to physically travel too. For her, good food and good coffee are therapy. She also believes in magic. Her life rotates around hallucinations, dreams and visions. And, she likes to see things differently.

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