What happens.
This is dedicated to the only person who reads what I write: my sister! Late birthday wishes! :) Still working on your present. I haven't read this, I hope there's no stupid mistake OR IF IT'S UTTER BS.
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I reach out to you, But you are too high, way too high for my contraption. I call out for you, But my words don't seem to get to your ears. I cry for you, But you're too far to notice them. I look for you in vain, Is it that I'm unable to find you, Or that I'm unable to recognize you? * I sit in the cafe sipping my Espresso. It reminds me of you. "How do you even drink that damned bitter thing?" you would ask, and I would just laugh it off because the way you spoke was always way too endearing for me to explain. One of the many things I never explained to you. I see a kid holding his cup of hot chocolate with both his hands the way you used to. I always found that cute. I sigh. Everything about this day reminds me of you. I had sent you away, pushed you as far as you could go. I want to meet you, talk to you, have you hold me the way I used to, but I don't. Something wasn't right about us, and that wouldn't change however hard we tried; we were always smiling but we were never content. It was easy to get used to you; your little quirks, your preferences, your smell; but why is it so difficult to do without you? I finish my Espresso, wondering if I should have taken a Mocha, it is your favourite. * It's easy to grab someone's hand, It's difficult to let go. It's easy to look into someone's eyes, It's difficult to break the gaze. It's easy to think about you, It's difficult to It's easy to be caught after falling, But it isn't so to stand back on your own again. * It's been a while. There still are moments I think of you, but I don't make an attempt to make contact. Letting go seems to be easier than accepting you. Although I realize the amount of space you had started to take in my life, I understand its irreplaceable, but it doesn't feel like a void, it's just something that's there. I'm sipping a mocha, and it's too sweet for me. I'm going for a movie with my friends today, and I can't wait to join them for the senseless fun we used to have. I'm finally listening to the song you had suggested; it's not too bad. I hope I remember to mention it if we run into each other. A part of me is desperate for that to happen, but even if it does happen, how would we talk to each other? How am I going to ensure you're okay and tell you all those things about how I'm starting to like football, how I'm finally good at applying eyeliner and explain that I still care for you, that I'm glad that we met and made the right choice in taking different paths? Maybe it's better than we don't meet. I finish my coffee; I should have just stuck to my usual espresso. * I like you. I like how you talk, I like how you walk, I like how your biceps twitch, I like how you adjust your watch, I like how you look at me, But is the gaze what I want? I like how you like me back, But somehow the reciprocity isn't making me as happy as it should. * It's been a very long time, and neither of us have made advances in "staying in touch" as we had promised. I shake my head at the memory. I see a guy holding his coffee mug with both hands; how kiddish is that, how kiddish are you? It turns out that you consider what we had to be a detour and that you were glad to be finding your way back; and I'm glad that you're glad. I appreciate what you've done more than ever, and I'm ready to go forward, I now know what I want; I just want to feel what you had for me for someone, I can actually see myself with another human. It could be anyone next, maybe even you, but under different circumstances, we'd probably change and be better for each other, or we'd be better for someone else, but I'm open to anything now. It'd be something that makes all the wrongs feel right, make every tear worth the smiles, make every effort worth the acceptance. I see you around sometimes, and we conveniently ignore each other; and I see that your attention has spurned to different things... and people. The song that you had suggested is playing at the café and it's annoying me now. *
Moving on isn't about forgetting, It's about accepting and learning. And it's easier than we think it is.
*
We are standing next to each other now. The conversation we have been avoiding with all our might is about to happen. We haven't gone beyond salutations yet, and we are at a loss for words; so we leave it there. We don't tell each other about our new friends. You excuse yourself, and although a part of me is hurt about our friendship holding no more value, I'm happier about walking away. *
