How you make yourself believe in a lie,
Can’t you just let it untie?
Look, there’s a better place to go,
Why you keep on dying in this snow?
Saw that reflection of you in her eye?
Or just a feeling of a cold goodbye?
This urge to live a life,
This urge to see myself strive,
I love the musings that you say me all night,
But maybe it’s time to give up the fight.
“Aren’t you doing anything on her birthday this year?” Asked his friend.
No response from the other side.
“Hey? Are you there?” Came from the same person.
“Yeah. Well I don’t know. I’ll see to that. Well,I’m off to sleep. Take care.” He said hanging up the phone.
A picture with her as his wallpaper told a different story altogether.
It’s the last page of the 365 pages I’ve written till now. Ironically it’s been a year since we last had a conversation. Yeah, it was your birthday when we talked. I mean I was talking. This year’s going to be different. Will it be? Yeah you were right I’ll be missing you the moment you left. But I never thought it will change me like this. The urge. The willingness to hear you when nobody else is listening. The urge to see you when you’ve surrounded yourself by walls of people you’ve met. The urge to hear it from you, about how worthless your feelings are about boys and how your emotions change with person to person. The urge to feel your smell when the world has lost all its senses to feel anything. To touch the parts of your scarred body that you keep hiding from the world and to tell you how beautiful they look in the glowing moonlight. The urge to see you everyday for the rest of the days that I have left on this planet. The urge to save you from drowning and help you sail out of the storm that you keep dragging yourself into everytime you run into someone new. The urge to write to you everyday and tell you how important you’ve been till now and how you’ve managed to pull out the buttons inside me that I thought never existed in the first place. I might not be with you all the time but this urge to be with you without being around you drives me crazy in the middle of the night. It tells me to grab you and never let you go again. Like you’ve been a piece of me. A day without hearing things from you feels like a millennium of infinities. Where I find myself lost. Where I don’t know how and what to say to myself. When the only thing I had was you and you took that thing away from me. The long conversations that dried and eventually perished away from my life kind of hurt me. It just hurts not to see you but hear everything about you. It hurts trying to catch a cloud which just evades from my clenches and fades away. It just like hoping for a ship to come at an airport I guess. Your love made me do things. Your love that was just enough to make me feel like I’m the one for you. Your love that urged me to kiss you slow in the middle of the night. Your love that made me live a life with you. Your love that made me a father, a brother, a sister, a mother and a child. Your love which made me look into your eyes and see my little packets of forevers. Your love, that was just enough to make a stupid boy, a sensible man.
I know it’s your birthday today. But I know I won’t be sending you any of this. It’s been 365 days. Now I guess this urge is changed to a desperate need. But it has always been that “just enough to let you go with someone else in front of my eyes” kind of thing. I know you are fine. I just know that, my love.”
He takes all those pages. Bundles them and burns them. Maybe love stories look better in burnt ashes of little infinities that you live by closing your tired eyes every night. Maybe love stories are just musings that a fortune teller tells to those who keep on searching for it.
Rivers that flow inside your heart,
Rivers that bring a devastating drought,
How a rain inside your mind,
Brings chaos with a pretty chime.
The urge that makes me pray this time,
To feel it all once again with a sad rhyme,
The end comes before the beginning,
Then why am I still trying?
Shhh.. let them guess my love,
Let them feel this urge.