Of Love

You know it all. You are my twelve months of summer, my  fine tune, my Sunday song and my Wednesday wish. You are my first thought, when I am up and the last before I sleep. I want to write you letters. of love,  of you, of me, of us and of our dreams…the letters that I write at the whim of a blinking cursor, the letters that reach you long  after I am gone with the sea. I want to write you a love song, a love sonnet…I want to write and show you, how pretty the things will look when we walk hand in hand, under pouring skies.  I want to write about you, about me and about our love, till my hands ever learn , how to stop writing…

They say, unfulfilled love is more romantic. Is it true? Then, stay away from me. Let your distance be my intimacy. I want it to be romantic…more romantic than ever before. With you, I lose my sense of being and at the same time, I am closest to me.  I can stand before you…without masks, without hallucinations, without a single thought running in my mind. 

But now, Promises lay scattered. And we will have to walk away, pretending that we never knew what we saw …as we never never knew, how we were.. Kidding each other and moving away without looking back or without looking beyond.  I fear this because it is the scary truth.  It may fade  or whither away like a bloom in the rain. Miss me then..For if not in your thoughts, there would be of no reason for my existence.

 There may be new dreams.. but deep within, You and I know - when it rains, it  will be your warmth I protect inside. And when life bids farewell, it will be your voice that I hear, your tears that mud me to the earth. And then, we would know that we had loved each other, once and a billion more times. 

But now, all that I have for you is a word, a quote, a story..and the little smell of some perfume on this tiny bit of paper… nothing less, nothing  more…  

P.S : The post has been selected for Tangy Tuesday Pick