Unposted letters # 1

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To the memory that still makes me smile,

As I write this, there is a smile on my face. Thinking how the 25-year-old me imagined you’d be her forever happily ever after.

But the 35-year-old me knows the difference between forever yours and happily ever after.

The later is a fairy tale, the former – reality. And fairy tales and reality do not mix in real life.
Looking back, I realize how much I believed in love. The innocent belief still makes me smile.

I remember that half-smile of yours. The weird names you used to call me – and how I reveled in the love of being called a ‘dumbo’. Now, I would smack anyone who calls me that.

I remember how I used to ask 1000 times – what’s wrong – and the reply would be – nothing. Years later, I bumped into a video that explained when men say nothing, they really mean it. Had I known it earlier, I would have not bugged you.

Do you remember the first time we went out? I am sure you do, considering how high I was.

But do you remember our last hug at the airport? I could feel your heart breaking, but I held on to mine till I crossed the security check.

I wish we would have fought less, loved more. I wish I would have been as patient with you as I am now with my partner.

But then, there is a wild spirit that the 25-year-old possesses. At 35, maturity replaces that.

I still remember your face when you told me of your dream of being a drummer. That sunset and the shack remains. And I still make an annual visit.

The midnight rides on the deserted streets. The madness of midnight ice-creams. Friday binge drinking sessions. Humming ‘love the way you lie’. The memories never left me.

And then suddenly, we fell apart. How and why does not matter to me anymore.

But there is, and will always be, a part of my heart that I left with you. And I carry a bit of yours in me.

I have never hated you. I just outgrew love. But the lover of the past will always wish you well. Every time I close my eyes, a silent prayer escapes my lips – I hope you stay happy. And smile more often than you used to.

 

From someone in love with the concept of love.

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