About missing her

Opening up to her was like removing the layers you put up in front of the world to reveal your inner self and put that true self in her hands. But the intensity is what made it worth it. You could be anything with her. The person you had been, the person you wanted to be and the person you were. And she would know. You did not have to break it down for her to understand. She’d know.

Opening up to her was like removing the layers you put up in front of the world to reveal your inner self and put that true self in her hands. But the intensity is what made it worth it. You could be anything with her. The person you had been, the person you wanted to be and the person you were. And she would know. You did not have to break it down for her to understand. She’d know.

That was her gift. She knew me.

When someone knows you like she did, you can’t go hiding in silence. It only screams louder about what’s wrong. But her voice calmed down the screams. They helped me go to bed knowing there was something to look forward to. Something I could be hopeful of. Something worth living for.

I remember the rants. How we laughed at the end of them. What a cruel world. And yet it all felt so funny.

I remember the whispers. And how it felt as if I could just hug her to make it all alright. Calm her down. The vulnerability of the moment. And it ended with a grateful feeling. For having someone who had our back.

I remember how you felt like home. The feeling when you learn that home is not a place. It’s a feeling. It resides in something.

I remember the cries and promises. And the love that followed. It used to be serene. The late night silence. I can still feel you.

I remember the silly talks and laughs. Remember those tiles? Or the anxiety of balancing? How strangely and strongly attracted I felt back then.

I remember being stupid. Remember that morning walk in the park? It was fun walking on those mini rail tracks. It was fun feeling carefree. I can still feel the cold air in my face when I saw you sad. You didn’t want me to leave.

There’s a lot that’s etched in the heart. It remembers the good. The mind comprehends why it’s no more. Maybe someday the heart and mind reconcile.

It’s not about sending a message or reaching out. I’m sure I pop up in your heart every now and then. It’s about how we envisioned the “best friends” to stay together. And all that is left among those words is the “end”.

The world is a small place. Made smaller by feeling belonged. I don’t know if we ever cross our paths again. How and when and where. But I do know that when(if) we talk I would be able to see through you still, even though I may not be able to relate to much of what you say.

If no one else then my mind tells me, why do you recall the past so much? What good does it hold to your future?

My past holds you. It is the only time in my life that has you. So me being a mere mortal, I can’t help but rejoice in the happiest days of my life. Drops of those moments keep me going on.

But without you, I don’t know where.

I hope someday I find meaning. I can feel again as if I have figured it all out. I hope you do the same, too. But if not, then worry not. For wherever I may be, I shall remember the brief encounter with your light.

I hope you still shine bright, kid.