In Loving Memory

“I imagine the day you leave, and might be gone forever, and the day shall start where I mourn my own death, the death of my hope for another type of living, that which I could imagine myself content, but no…it is not to be, for you will leave, and go without saying.

I feel myself so yearning, to tell you some words that I have hidden inside me, yet I feel such insignificance inside me, that I merely cry inside and regret later. Such a fool I am to even think of it, when I cannot heal from my own scars. There is so much to forget, but forgetting is not the key. I had already known it, but a sudden reconciliation destroyed me: the process repeated itself, my scars reopened and I was lying on the ground again, shattered, in pieces so tiny that I am still putting them back together – just trying to live on for tomorrow.

If I had those last words with you, which I would dearly beg you to give, but yet I do not dare, so I speak softly to myself, and in my dreams I say:

“In moments you leave for your destination, and leaving your friends, which I am honoured to be one, if you ever considered it so. I am yet another man of regret among many others I dare say, who ventured after your heart, but only to be left in wanting. But let me explain myself, that it is just not the right time, and although I endure much to my pain to how I keep my feelings for you, I could not rest another day thinking I had caused you further suffering, in a land far away, where I could not comfort you. There stands a place in my heart, forever, where I see you dance in the midst of cheer and beauty, everlasting beauty, which I do not want to vanish – I dare not cause you pain, for the guilt should destroy me.

You are one among very few, who could understand the words that I speak. Perhaps it’s not the matter of speaking, or even the language to which I use, I know you comprehend not meanings of to which you wish not to compliment. Though, you took the effort, you take the time to go ahead with a quest for meaning. You are one among very few, who I have come to know, who actually care for another with equal zest of which you care for yourself, if not even more. I have become enchanted, by your very smile, for which I admit I have a soft spot, till the end I shall remember it and keep it close to heart.

I have yet to meet another person, who can truly tell me what I am. Sadly I admit, parts of me have been revealed in my past, and broken affairs. But none have found the complete picture, and I feel that it could have been my fault at large, but still I have found a person in you: who desires to enter another’s world and having the will to see and understand, you hold the key that I have lost that would unlock my heart.

I know I seem such a dramatic person, and my words walk to dangerously on exaggeration, but I assure you all this is true, and I shall not deny a single word I have said. I believed that I have found a person, who could leave me with not a single day, a smile at the end. And I in return, would provide that, and all the comfort and care I am capable of. On that day, I swam in delight, but as the days went on, I began to swim towards darker waters. I realised that my days were marked, and the end of my affairs in this continent of education would soon end, but not my life of spirit and passion – they would lead me elsewhere.

Though the voice seemed to speak so clearly in my mind, telling me of the regret and loss, and yet again I fell down on my knees, and my heart became weaker and weaker, yet my whole body trembled before the beating of it. It held so much that I could not contain, and I let it out in one great burst. Inside me, I felt something break – the hope of something beautiful: a time with you.

But I regret I cannot see through with this feeling, a great force holds me from myself, knowing how I shall break when I cannot see you, when I cannot comfort you. Perhaps I am ill, but I am just such a person; perhaps I am different, but it is what has set me apart from you. And in that, the irony rings so loud, now is not the time, and perhaps I am not the person for you. You may have found someone else, and perhaps already have someone else, and I wish you well, as you leave, my last words will not be 3, but only one: farewell…”

Though my greatest regret, would be not able to speak to you. The last words of my heart, I shall keep in living memory. I have a dream, and perhaps it shall end here, with you. And my heart might be sealed, from not to eternity, and I shall meet you again, I don’t know when. But my heart is shut, for when you go, it has no reason to open. So I live only a half-life, where half of me is shut off to the world.

Those who try and take the effort, they might see inside me, and perhaps get a glimpse of a complete and whole person. Those who don’t, they are just blind and see my image. My superficial self might change, but not me inside, I exist still the same person, moulding and becoming better, but not changed.

There is not a single soul that has looked into my eyes, and after that being able to tell me who I truly am. I suppose it is a curse. I am a mirror for people to see themselves, and so they are unable to see me, they just see their reflection, and I am just an entity for them to reflect on, to help them move on. How happy it is, the gift: to be able to help others; but ironic, the curse: to not be able to help myself. I too, need a mirror.