I can hear a voice. Calling out to me from a distance. The voice seems familiar. I recognize it. The unbridled passion. The unadulterated happiness. The absolute contentment.
The distance. That is something I cannot judge. It seems easy to reach out to. But nearly impossible to cross that distance. A few years probably. A decade, maybe.
The voice is drawing me closer to it, showing me a world that once used to be. The things I used to do. The hours I spent pouring myself into the things I absolutely loved. The moments that consumed me.
I see flickers of that passion now. But mostly embers of what it used to be. How did it come to be this?
Where did I lose myself? At what point did I leave that side of me behind? What am I now? Do I recognize this version of me? What does my passion stand for now? What would you remember me for if you knew me today?
That voice calls out to me again. Shakes me out of my contemplation. I must take action. I must take the first step towards it. What built me once, will build me again. I must create. It does not matter what. As long as I keep creating. And in this process, I shall find me again.
There have been a million times I have felt guilty for letting this blog stay dormant, for the pages to stay barren, for my thoughts – yearning for a chance to be penned down- die a slow, painful, silent death.
What’s my excuse to be away from the one thing that truly drives me?
Maybe the intensity of my desire to write wasn’t strong enough to draw me here.
But today, something, or rather – someone did.
I’m back, and I’m here to stay.
Welcome back :)
You have been missed, terribly.
I keep trying so hard to forget him, to get him out of my conscious thoughts. And it makes me think, if it is such a struggle, maybe forgetting him isn’t the thing to do.
If he keeps popping into my head whenever I am trying to find myself, in a space that is meant just for me – then, I shouldn’t deny him the entry. I’m going to let him visit, let his soul speak to me what his mind otherwise holds back.
I am going to treasure those moments, cos in that space, I know I will truly hear his heart speak. He wants to tell me a million things, but he is afraid. I know he is. Afraid of losing his heart again and never getting it back. I know I am too.
Somehow, I see our souls connected by an invisible thread, that draws us closer just as we try to go your separate ways. And we have been on different paths, for a long time now. Then why do we keep coming back to that crossroad? Why do we keep questioning what we have between us? What do we have between us? Cos honestly, if we weren’t meant to be, we would’ve just fallen out of each others’ lives easily.
There’s a million things left unsaid. Maybe they will stay like that forever. Maybe we will finally say it through secret conversations with each others’ souls. Maybe this is all a big, fat dream ~and I will have no memory of it tomorrow. Maybe I will. Maybe I’d find that questioning look, those unspoken words, those unexpressed emotions that we both know we are feeling when I look into those eyes – the window to his soul, years after we’ve claimed we have moved on. And maybe, blinking it away is the best thing I could do for both of us. Maybe.
The way you look at me. That soft look, that sense of pride, that I’m all yours. All my time, just for you. That everyone ceases to exist when you’re around. That look. That satisfied grin. That beaming smile. Do you even know what that does to me? Let me tell you.
It stirs something inside of me. Fluttering in my belly. My heart jumps like crazy. I can feel the colour rising in my cheek.
And while I’m trying to calm my body down, and focus on making conversation with you, my mind finds something else about you to distract me.
Like the way your hair curls at the nape of your neck. It’s so cute, I want to reach out and twirl it. *snap snap*
Please don’t ever stop looking at me like that. Even when I’m 60, gray, with gaps in my smile.
I’m sure you’ll still have the same effect on me, after all those years.
Their love is infinite.
Yet, they never fail to give themselves to each other. The waves, bracing themselves for those few seconds when they finally kiss the shore.
The shore, patiently waiting on every ebb and flow. Breaking into a million pieces as the water slowly traces its steps back. Only to return a few minutes later.
They know they can never be together forever. They soak themselves in the love they receive, whenever they receive it. Not asking for anything more. No promises, no commitment. Just an understanding that when they meet, life will be beautiful again.
Their love isn’t selfish, or demanding.
Their love isn’t restrictive or punishing.
Just a series of beautiful kisses,
Do you think we could be like that, forever?