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
