You are not my forever friend.
I chant it like a mantra; I chant as though my life depends on it.
you the shooting star in the sky,
the chocolate sprinkles on top of treasured ice creams,
the crust of my favourite lemon meringue pie;
you are the start of every vacation,
the end of a long and exhausting meeting,
the first cold snip of an overdue haircut.
the chorus of a favourite song,
the climax of a best-loved movie,
and most of all, the epilogue of a life-changing book.
You are tucked in between every feeling that spells wonderful and the end.
Sometimes, I think you are my best-kept secret.
We shuttle in (un)intentional ciphers of you’s and I’s – two entities attempting but failing to see eye-to-eye. You, bright as daylight, and I, dark as the night. You, the epitome of cold, calculated logic, and I, steaming in a cauldron of emotions and desires. You, viewing the world from the apex of your piqued persona, where as I, ruminate ceaselessly for open conclusions.
I have no idea how we kept our friendship for ten years. I have stopped wondering about you, about us, about the mechanism that defines our seasonal friendship. Blink, and here we are, at the crossroads of our lives. Twenty-9, single, lost, and found wanting (but that is okay, I am usually okay without a map – just not so okay with not knowing endings). With you, we already know our ending long ago.
P.S: Thank you for these 10 years of shared moments and, in some ways, a lifetime of treasured remembrances.
P.P.S: We learn about life in each season as fast as we learn about hearts that are capable of breaking again, again, and, again and heal just to break again.