Life less than travelled

I wish I am all bravado and all guns blazing. As much as I hate to admit it, I am mostly a wimp when it comes to travelling.
Afraid of the eyes set upon me.
I cowered and shied into my little world.

Moving on. Or am I back to the beginning?

No, I didn't write them.

But life happens, and suddenly you find yourself so far from where you've been. No warnings, no street signs, no one telling you where you made the wrong turn.

And soon it will be 2 years, then 3, then 10, and I won't even remember his face anymore and something somewhere will remind me of him and I will think to myself I really loved that boy.


I have so many things that I want to say and so many things that I want to do. But I can’t do anything. I don’t know this somebody, and I am afraid that I never will. I have waited so long for this somebody to come, so long that I have made him an unrealistic and fictional person. Boys like him don’t really exist. They are too good to be true. They are made up in messed up minds like mine, and the only time you will ever meet them, is when you fall asleep and drag them in to your dreams.

What awaits me?

Sometimes I want the normalcy. The attention it deserves, and the respect that I do not give to it.
All I do is crowd myself with moments.
Like snapshots. Transitory and momentous.

I was crossing the road and I thought to myself, every relationship will end this way.
As ordinary as crossing the road.

I come and I go

I hate the way I live.
The bubble. Pricked by my ever fastidious whims.
Pop.

In that distant world I call home

That queasy feeling.
Is it the meeting of a nemesis?
Or knowing that someone else is living my dream?

That vast silence that deafens me

Have you forgotten about me?
Quietly in these silent days?

Have you look up to the sky and wonder that I am looking up at it too?
And thinking about you.

Me - The forgotten one

Am I greedy because I love?
Feeding on the impossible.
Pining for what he had forgotten and laid to rest.

By Emily Dickinson

Heart! We will forget him!
You and I—tonight!
You may forget the warmth he gave—
I will forget the light!

When you have done, pray tell me
That I may straight begin!
Haste! lest while you're lagging
I remember him!

She cuts a lonely figure

Leave me alone.
I want to sit quietly by myself.
Just by myself.

The sun shines, on my flaws and all

When bad things or misfortune befall other people, what do you do?
Gloat over their bad luck? Relief? That it did not happen to you? Or genuinely sympathise?

I wish I can summon all my honesty and say I belong to the latter. But I can only heave a huge sign of relief.
That it was not me.