LOVING FROM AFAR
Hearts far away…
It’s funny how you and I live in the same planet and breathe the same air, but when my town here is buzzing with oomph and pursuit in broad daylight, your city there is sound asleep in silence dreaming of probably the next big breakthrough. It’s been two years since I last touched your face — those plum cheeks that went red as cherry when I first held your hand. You never told me that hurt, until you were gone. If you were here now, I would intertwine them with mine, firm but gentle this time. But today, even the air that brushes your hand barely reaches mine.
Our love was tender when you left. It had barely been sown into the garden of our hearts, and we watered it every day with our long endless walks accompanied by our deep conversations. I was the shy one; listening, nodding and half-smiling, unable to forge my thoughts into words, and you were the one always pouring your heart out to me as if I were your diary. In fact, I have become your diary. I remember every detail you’ve told me, whether it’s the name of your aunt’s nephew’s cousin or the incident back from school when you stumbled off into the fields while walking bouncingly back home. I remember everything distantly relevant to you, and yet, I don’t recall how these two years passed without you.
That brinjal-blue t-shirt with white small stripes, and strands hanging on both sides of your waist, that black one with patterns of four-leaf clover, I miss seeing you in those. I should have asked you to leave one of them with me, so that on gloomy nights when I really miss you, I could sleep embracing it, and perhaps, feel like being next to you.
You with me — that’d be my favourite day. I’d need no one else, nothing else, not even my favourite anime movie, just you and your deep grave talks. We’re not like other lovers, we’ve never been — we didn’t talk sweet, we didn’t fool around, we didn’t toy. We’re much like a seventy-year old couple — boring, worrisome and yet, sealed with eternal trust, belongingness and love.
You see, my best friend. She thinks we’re strong, she thinks that we’re brave to hold on even through such distance. But does she see how hard it is? How hard it is to walk every road we used to walk together and not have you beside me? How hard it is to go to the restaurant we used to and not have you watching me eat voraciously? How hard it is to survive everyday hoping you’ll be alright because there’s nothing I can do to be by your side when you cry, when you’re sad, when you feel alone?
I know there’s distance between us, but there’s trust, hope and compassion too. But above all, there’s love — the love that aches my heart when you cry, the love that makes me fly when you laugh, the love that has tied your heart to mine. It might take time before I touch your face again, I know, but there’s nothing that can stop me from touching your heart. There’s no place you’ll go and not find me. I’m there with you, always.
