Since you left, I have held fences and railings a little tighter, my hands rush to grab water under every running tap, my feet walk a little faster as if I had to catch every passing train. Since you left, something inside me tells me that everything's meant to leave, and I… I never questioned that voice ever since. They say, ‘Goodbyes hurt’. They do. I never believed otherwise. I would lie if I told you that every hug I savor through the day doesn’t fill me up with a fear of sudden loss. It does. Every time. Since you left, grief has been a constant, and smiles have been a fleeting luxury. Time has been an illusion, and every illusion has been a refuge; away from reality, away from the memories, away from you. Tales of heartbreaks feel like lullabies, and the happy faces scare me away. Why? They give me hope… and just in case you haven’t realized it yet, you never loved me enough to have touched my heart. You were only just as powerful to spark hope and then take it all away. When love begins to hurt in places other than the heart, it is only as good as a stale bottle of medicinal nectar. It will sit at a shelf beside your bed, pass a wink every other stark night, remind you of its healing powers, but if you ever happen to fall for its promises, it pulls you back into the scenic dinge of prettiest rotten roses and happiest fallen stars. The horror of it? That place feels like home to you now. Trust me, no one ever desires a homecoming to lanterns fuelled with tears.
To the one I am in love with, Loving you is like chasing raindrops on a hazed window. You take my hand and run for the world, with giggles too magical for me to be thinking about catching my breath. Love ballads have tasted bland on my tongue since the day I heard your voice and your smiles make my stars fall. If all of that isn’t enough to make me sound like a cliched poet with her pen love-drenched, then don’t forget to catch a glimpse of the charm in my eyes; it dawns over with a mere thought of you. You are a wizard and love is the magic. It’s like a sorcerer’s needle, the one known to sew flying carpets and superhero capes. When you smeared my wounds with this shining piece of alchemy, I curved my lips and winked at my pain like a shameless troll. Healing, then, sounded like the luxury of walking over fallen rose petals and my blood turned pink enough for it to stop scaring me. If I talk about myself, I am a hardcore old school lover. I will write you letters, buy you lavenders and drop my handkerchiefs in your room just to leave my perfume hanging in the air. I will steal your shirts and wear one of them to sleep every night just to wake up wearing your cologne on my skin. I will scribble our initials on every mahogany tree in the backyard and then hide behind one, just to make you walk past them. I will sing for you and stroke your head till you fall asleep in my lap. I will pull you into a slow waltz and dance till our breaths weave a symphony. But, beyond everything, I will do something too rare for this world. I will stay. Will you? With love, G. Picture credit: @shreyansh_dhandhukia