Gnaw.

Memories spring up from where you least expect them. So much of this town is tainted. I reach somewhere and suddenly the wind leaves my lungs, my airway is deficient and choked, and I have lost all sense of time and place. I am ready to break down, I do break down internally but how many times can I find a corner to silently weep in? I think I've learnt the art of weeping on the inside constantly instead. I don't think anybody thinks about people, places, songs, and cities the way I do. Many people have ruined many things for me but you took this to a whole new level. It's not even on you - it's on me and my inability to dissociate. It's not the end that has ruined it all - it's the complete and utter loss of meaning to every memory - was it all a lie, a pretence, did I "steal you from your parents" all along? Was there no free will? Are my favourite memories your worst nightmares? I think I can't be the villain in anybody's story and being the only one in yours is what hits me most. Nobody else knows what we went through but surely you do, right? Surely you don't hate me as much as you say, right? Right?

I hate that I'm always left wondering! Why must I be forced to rethink everything? Why can't it just be something beautiful but not everlasting? No, it must be scarred and I must be blamed. I empathize and I understand the world and then when nothing is left of me, I empathize some more. But never am I granted the benefit of the doubt I so easily give to those I love. You know what this questioning does to me? Do you? I constantly second guess myself. I struggle with self love. I always doubted my physical beauty now I doubt my inner one too. It's not fair to my parents, who raised me so much better than this; it's not fair to my friends whom I constantly hold to extremely high standards; it's not fair to the person I'm with because I always alternate between being too enmeshed or too distant but most of all it's not fair to me! Why must I be the one left in doubt? Why can't I just be allowed to treasure my past as opposed to constantly run from it?

In the end, you're all the same, with all the same promises and the exact same heartbreak.
And yet here I am again, hoping that unlike you, he'll always remember us this way.
Hopeless romantic much?


PS: Thank you Ad-mad, if you're reading, for being the only exception. 

"I see my future in your eyes"

There's way too much pain and I'm drowning. Where's my lifejacket? I think I found floaters but they're running out of air and I'm grabbing on to lifeboats that were pirate ships to begin with. I have to do this on my own, I say to myself. But I don't. I constantly need someone to hold my hand through things and I hate that about myself. I think I'm scared of the alternative - not because of how much it will suck but because of how comfortable I will eventually get at being alone, enough to never let anyone in, even slightly, again. I could finally find out what it's like - fighting to stay alive - maybe it's time - sink or swim baby. 

Doori.

He said to her: 

"Kehne ko hum paas hai par, kitni doori hai

Yeh bhi kaisi majboori hai?

Tumse hamdardi bhi nahi kar sakta main,

Meri bas ki baat nahi hai

Main ye behte aansu ponchu,

Itni meri aukat nahi hai.

Main bhi yahin hun

Tum bhi yahi ho

Par sach ye hai ki main hun kahin

Tum aur kahin ho

Kehne ko hum paas hai par, kitni doori hai
Yeh bhi kaisi majboori hai?"

She smiled. 
He finally understood what she had known all along but struggled to explain. 

She said:

साथ होके  भी  साथ  ना  थे,
अब दूर होके भी दूर नहीं
सबकी हमदर्दी के बिना ही जी हुन मैं हमेशा,
अपने आँसू पोछना बन गया हैं मेरा पेशा |
मजबूरी नही थी पर मजबूर हैं हम,
हमारी यादों से भी अब अनजान हैं हम |
दूरी तो सिर्फ एक बहाना हैं,
तुम्हें अपने आप से जो भागते जाना है...
पर मैं हूँ यहीं
तुम भी यहीं हो,
पर तुम हो नही
क्या तुम वही हो?