Nostalgia.

Nostalgia is a bitch they say. I never understood what that meant until we stopped being who we were and became who we are right now. We are still us, the same people alright. But it doesn’t feel like the times are the same, obviously because things changed. But what things? Because I don’t remember there ever being a ‘thing’. Well, not anything that we acknowledged of course. You know what’s weird though, that nostalgia hits every single night, every damn sundown. And yeah, it does hurt like a bitch.

Remember the little game the PE teacher made us play back in school where we had to take a step forward for every ‘Yes’ to his questions? Yeah, I think that was our game. The only difference being that we weren’t in the same line like back in the day, we were at opposite ends of the court. We asked the questions, we answered the questions and we took the steps too. I guess I just didn’t realise the moment when I stopped asking them and just stayed in the game for you, but apparently you played by the rules only skipping the one that said you couldn’t skip mine.

Of course I do not understand, I never do to be honest. It’s funny, it doesn’t even make me mad anymore. I wasn’t even surprised when I realised I was halfway past the court by the time I saw that I had no audience, not even you. The game had ended, just like that, broken rules and well not broken but a slightly dented heart. So what are the rules now? Because I never made them, I only played to your tune. I told you I do not like games, half because I do not understand them and the other obvious half being that I somehow always lose.

I remember watching the sun go down together, swaying legs and beating hearts, we were never great talkers. Contrary to Harry’s beliefs, comfortable silence is so not over-rated. I liked the quiet with you, I liked that you just held my hand and didn’t kiss me when the sun went down. Kisses really weren’t our thing either, we were weird that way. Kindred spirits I called us, because we definitely weren’t soulmates. You didn’t understand my words, you said they weren’t made for you but you know what you said after though? You said you only listened to them because maybe I was made for you. You fucking bastard, always with the charm.

I’m still smiling writing this, I’m not mad and that kind of makes me mad if it makes any sense. I thought you meant something to me, that I owed you that sense of  togetherness. But turns out that I couldn’t have been more mistaken, you were okay on your own. You weren’t going to be my next charity case, and I definitely didn’t need one since I wished I could be someone’s myself. Even the thought of you makes me restless, only because I thought I’d let myself go again. I’m so glad I stayed sane, and I’m so glad you were way above my usual crazy dominoes. I call them dominoes because they always end up face down, never disappoint – not once.

I don’t think it’s you that I miss, I think it’s the way it felt to have what we had. I don’t know how it feels to you, specially with changed priorities but I feel a sense of emptiness. There is a space. Don’t get me wrong though, it isn’t uncomfortable or anything, it’s just very noticeable. My brain isn’t empty at the end of the day anymore, so many thoughts, so many many words. It’s hard to fall asleep knowing that you wouldn’t hold me for the same reasons, even if you did it would probably be because you were just too scared of a cold bed. It feels weird knowing that I’m probably not the last person you talk to anymore, definitely not the first person for sure.

You told me you had never been happier, I told you that it scared the hell out of me. You told me that you needed this, I told you that all I wanted to do was run away. You told me that I felt like home, I told you that it felt like a fucking storm. The day you knocked on my door at 3am, asking me if everything was alright; I swear to God I felt everything come crashing down. The irony of it all, our god-damned hearts. I hate your flannel shirts, I hate your stupid blue beads and I hate your stupid hugs that I never could resist. And you know what else I hate? I hate how you made me feel.

I let you in right at the time that you walked me out, I didn’t know and neither did you. I guess I lost my charm the day I held your hand before you held mine, you see, that was so not me and obviously you noticed. I watched you from across the table, smiling and talking just the same but your eyes wandered. It wasn’t other girls that caught your eye, it was just another life; a different future. You didn’t ask me if I’d written anything in my book anymore, you didn’t even tell me if you wrote anything in yours. I didn’t need to tell you the words that heartened me that day or the next or another, because I knew you didn’t care.

I’m not saying that you didn’t care about me anymore, because of course you did and you showed it too. You just didn’t care about us, the idea of us that you had planted yourself. You made extra effort, you brought home cake every Thursday, you tried almost too hard. The fact that even now I can’t just write a sentence and be done with it without going into an elaborate explanation just so you don’t misunderstand says a lot I think. We were never meant to be, just two lonely souls clinging to one another till the phase passed. It’s unfortunate though that yours passed sooner, and I’m still here trying to grab onto whatever little of it is left.

But you know what the hardest part of it all is? That it was all for nothing. My days are the same, actually better but the nights are just a little too long. You’re being so brave and pushing away, and you’re doing such a great job at it that’s it’s almost impossibly perfect. It’s not my Skype that rings when something is going on anymore, it’s just the door to your room that closes behind you. I still need to talk to you though, you don’t realize that and even if you do – you turn away. I don’t need you to be my wall, I need you to just let me be your shadow. I don’t need your cuddles anymore, because I sleep in your empty shirts these days.

You’ve let us slip too far, I let you do it but only after I tried clinging onto your shirt every damn night. But now I don’t feel the connection anymore either, honestly I’m starting to doubt if we ever even had one. Maybe all we had were your empty words, the castles you built in the air, making me its delusional princess. I am not going to give you peace by denying the hurt, I am not going to be a liar just because you thought it was okay to be one. I’m just going to let you go, just as easily as I let you in. That’s always been your specialty with me, hasn’t it? You get what you want, a little too easily. The room is empty once more, my bags are packed and unfortunately enough, so is my little heart.

Lullaby

I stirred in my sleep, feeling you move beside me, my hand instinctively moving to your chest to pat you back to sleep. You’ve always been a light sleeper, I was used to being pulled closer, to awake nuzzled into you on the complete opposite side of the bed and not even knowing. But I’ve always been glad that you’re that way, makes me feel safer or rather closer. I know I comfort you, sometimes I’m scared I’ll fail you, probably why I’m a little too protective. I always knew when something was off, even your tiny little moods. And probably why as soon as my fingers reached your skin, I knew this wasn’t usual.

I jolted awake, my eyes immediately trying to find focus in the dimly lit room. It must be early dawn, light was seeping in through our floral curtains. I could see your outline, your stuttering breaths, I heard a whimper escape your lips. My eyes crinkled instinctively as I pulled myself closer to you, pushing the sheets aside, my hands reaching for your face. I caught your face contorted in pain, my breath caught, my heart tightened at just the sight of you. Even in that moment, I couldn’t stop but marvel at your striking features – curled thick lashes, perfectly etched jaw line, full lips tilting up right at the corners – you even had some rough stubble just the way I liked it. I longed for your deep brown eyes, or maybe they were the color of molten ash, I always felt it depended on your moods. They were loving and brown when we were around people, when we were outside or when we were just doing random things – brown meant comfort to me, brown was the boy I cuddled into each morning while he glanced through the paper. But the dark tint that so evidently bore into me, it never mattered if we were at a party or just watching tv at home – it made my breath hitch, sending shivers down my spine in anticipation – well, that was an entirely different story. 

I immediately shook my head, chiding myself & trying to clear it off the most absurd train of thought that it had caught onto! How could i be so distracted! I put my arm above your head, my fingers brushing your hair out of your face and continuing to run along the length. My other hand caressing your face as I leaned down to kiss your forehead, my body instinctively wrapping around you as I tried to shush you out of your nightmare. I didn’t even know you’d nightmares, I’d never even considered it. You were so strong, so brave and so.. I don’t even know what to call it! I just never considered anything that could get to you. And here you were, shaking in my arms, pushing your face into my chest like you were hiding –  like you were hiding from something only I could save you from. My heart panicked at the thought, I knew I should wake you, that I should pull you out of this, that I should tell you that I was right here! But I was scared, I don’t know why, but I just couldn’t bring myself to waking you.

 
I watched you intently, looking for signs, searching you like I’d find my answers written on your skin. The fallen angel on your chest, my mouth went slack in wonder, as she looked to be stirring too. My hands unconsciously reaching for her, lacing along the meteor shower that traced her fall. I’ve always been intrigued by your ink, you always denied them having a story but I knew. I knew because everything about you held a story, and I was determined to unravel them all. You groaned as you whispered a little ‘no’, my movement immediately halting – I pulled back feeling guilty for something I hadn’t even done yet, like I was invading your bubble. You were such a mystery to me, so enthralling, no wonder everyone thought I was being silly and hopeless with you – which sometimes, I myself thought too. 

I pulled myself together, as I dipped my lips to your ear as my arms circled your broad shoulders. ‘Baby?’, I whispered uncertainly, ‘Honey, wake up’. It took me a few more whispers, kisses and some shaking to wake you out of it. You looked surprised, you looked at me like you didn’t even know me for a second there. I knew it was silly, but my heart wrenched, it hurt even though I knew it was fleeting. You picked yourself off the bed onto your elbows, all the muscles suddenly more defined along your torso, your hands automatically reaching to tuck my straying strands behind my ear, a habit that i was more than just accustomed to by now. I almost smiled at the look of concern on your face, your eyes probing mine for any trouble. You pulled me in, bringing your lips to my hair as you whispered, ‘Are you okay babe?’ And I could all but giggle at the situation! 

Here I was thinking I would save you from whatever it was that had troubled you in your sleep, and the moment you were awake – every cell in your body did the same for me. God, this boy! This boy would be the end of me. I smiled as I pulled you into me, remembering that you always said it was almost comical how I tried to fit all of the six foot tall you into me, like it was even possible! Maybe we would talk about it another time, maybe over breakfast if you ever let me out of bed to get to making it first, but not now. We were okay, just tangled up in each other, just us and the morning light.

My body relaxed as I heard you sigh contently against my neck, feeling your heart settle into a lazy beat, fully aware that you were falling back asleep like nothing had happened. I let a stupid grin plaster onto my face as I remembered all the thoughts that had run through my mind in the past 15 minutes. You awakened that in me, you made me so much more receptive and in touch with everything. I loved it that you did that, I loved it even more because I knew I did the same to you. We kept each other on the edge, fully aware that neither of us were letting go. Just a tiny little thing that I probably never noticed with any of my boyfriends before, that tiny little thing had led my mind into overdrive. 

I let myself melt into your chest, my legs locking into yours, trying to match my breath to yours. That had become my very own lullaby ever since the first time I fell asleep with you. I closed my eyes as I pulled in a long breath, reminding myself to etch your smell into memory. I felt myself drift away with you, to wherever you were taking me and not once did I harbour a doubt. Never even once, since I met you. 

Blue Converse

I had reached the end of the book, my coffee was cold. I hated that typical feeling you get when something so amazing comes to an end, the feeling of knowing that it was over forever. There was no way I could relive how the book made me feel, no way to feel the rush of first-times. When I looked up to ask for a fresh brew, after placing the book aligned to the edge of the table as per habit, little did I know that it would be the beginning of something that books could never give me. 🙂

You walked in. The first thing that struck me – Blue Converse. It still remains to be the first thing that strikes me each time I see you, there is always something blue on you. 🙂

You were with a bunch of people, all happy and having an overtly animated conversation. You were somehow quieter, you were talking but there was just something placid about you. There was a soothing ‘something’, something that I couldn’t put my finger on. And it struck me, “The calm before the storm.” 🙂

Shruti called, I picked and I didn’t realise how long it had been. I looked longingly at my cup of coffee, mentally willing it to heat itself and frowned as I looked around for a waiter. I had forgotten you, entwined in the twisted world of besties. Someone placed a fresh brew in front of me, I looked up confused. The waiter just smiled a knowing smile and said, “Complimentary ma’am.” and pointed at your table. 🙂

Those were the first smiles we exchanged. You nodded, I did too. I didn’t realise when I cut Shruti’s call, maybe I never did, I still don’t really know. No sparks, no pixie dust, no violins, no cupid. It felt like a reunion, something found rather than created. You walked over. 🙂

The smile just refused to leave my face, you laughed when you reached my table, probably knowing that the same was happening to you too. It was husky, a boyish laugh – the kind that suddenly was my favourite thing in ages. Your friends were laughing in the background, calling names. I heard it for the first time, a name that I’d probably known forever. Or that was how it felt atleast. 🙂

Polite pleasantries exchanged, a compliment thrown at my cherry blush. You smelled familiar, you sounded familiar, everything about you was somehow ‘known’. It was but a conversation that probably lasted two minutes. You stood up and turned to leave, looked back after a step or two. You repeated my name, it slid like silk from your lips, like it was always meant to do just that. 🙂

You sat back at your table, somehow making it extremely unfair for me to be at a different one. I fidgeted with my book, all along fighting the urge to look up. Finally, I stood up to leave, caffeine ingested and bill paid. Walking out of the cafe was weirdly difficult for some reason. I beckoned at a passing rickshaw, got in and not knowing what to do, I looked at the stash of tissues that I had absent mindedly picked up on my way out. And there they were, 10 digits. 🙂

Just like before – No fairytale bells, no knight in shining armour, no cherry blossoms. No Jacob black, no Augustus Waters, no Quentin Jacobson. But still it was something, probably something a lot more than any words on paper ever proclaimed. We didn’t need a John Green or a Stephenie Meyer or a Cecelia Ahern to write our story, we would write our own, just like all stories are meant to be written.

And that was it. As simple as that. 🙂