For those of you who don’t know me, cut out the theatrical shocks- this ain’t no courtroom drama. But you know this about me. Probably don’t even hold it against me. And like you’ve told me a hundred times, in some corner of my head, I know it’s ok, that it’s natural. We all do it. Play these games. Somehow, it still feels like cheating. Which is why, I write this here, where you won’t find it- until it is in fact a part of my “will and last testament” to be given to you, when I’m no longer around.
After each conversation that we’ve had in the middle of the night that stretched into the early morning because the darkness was scary; each time that my eye falls on one of the many cards of yours that are pinned on the soft board in my room, I’ve opened up my laptop (alright, alright, dad’s laptop), ready to write just the right thing in just the right words- that conveyed more than I was able to say or show you, how much you mean to me.
Each time I come across one of those photographs of us in school- mischief in our eyes and ready to take on the world. Each time I open up that one message you sent so so very long ago that I’ve saved in my inbox, every time I need something, anything, to keep me going- so much so, that it’s no longer a conscious action. I didn’t want it to sound banal and it couldn’t sound like you were second best to anyone else in my life.
It had to be able to tell you that you’re the voice in my head (One of them) urging me to give in and laugh. To believe, that I am in fact, strong. You listen to my rambling and my lectures and my weird theories with the patience of a saint. You know of almost every thought I’ve thought- the good, the bad and the ugly. And you still (or at least say that you do) like the person that I am. You even let me live the illusion that I am in fact a good person, which, I really am not. And that I am able. And wisdomous (Sure, it’s a word.).
And even though we share the most unconventional best friend bond, what with the different cities and all- you are mine. Best friend. And more. It is you I miss, when I’m at the movies with my friends to throw pop corn at snogging couples- even if you have elevated to that status yourself *gag*. It is you whom I miss, when the monsters of the dark threaten my sanity.
But most of all, it is you whom I miss when I’m happy.
So, even though there’s no way of ever saying this properly- Lord knows I’ve tried- I’ll stick to the simplest, shukriya.
All my love.
Aaah... go easy on the senti pain for a while, no?
Kaushik
I wanted to write, I wrote.
SG.
hello=)
been a while
so long that i've actually grown up.