"I've done the merry go round, I've been through the revolving door. I feel like I met somebody I can stand still with for a minute and... don't you wanna stand still with me?" - Carrie Bradshaw to Mr Big, Sex and the City
He's my distant star.
Far far away, he still shines brightly.
Something about him has always made me smile. Thunderstorm, you are cherished. When I think of you, I go into sepia mode.
A yellow jacket, that I hated. Floppy hair that I wanted to snip away, to curb the urge to run my hands through them. Those damn glasses. The sarcastic smile.
A sunny day. A slope we walked up. You wanted to watch a movie. I wanted to run away from what you made me feel. Would it be different today if I had come? No, probably not.
Should I cry that you've changed? Your sepia is gray now.
Dark brown eyes. Like the chocolate Mom uses.
Thin lips, you can never be kissed.
Who are you Thunderstorm? Why do you steal my peace? Why are you here one day and I'm thrilled. Then you're gone and there's only the discomfort for memory.
Am I really that foolish? Can I really not see?
You're gone. Its old now. You're in a place where I am a hazy memory of a left-behind past.
To me you're still as vivid as ever.
You're the tossing and turning in the middle of the night.The dissatisfaction when people talk about perfect love.
You're like my smoking. A bad habit I can't get enough of.You're like a candle in the dark. You cast shadows I'm terrified of yet the sight of the flame has me captivated.
I allow you to take me some crazy far away place, where you and me is all we need. I remember when you said we'd run free together, with the grass below and the sky above.
We'd even have the playful dogs. And the house with the picket fence. And a green meadow beyond. With the cows that I'm scared of and the old creaky gate. Our house has a room full of books. Old ones, because you say they have a charm. And because I love to think of the people who read them before us. You sit with me and we talk about books all day. Because we have so many thoughts, and they get lonely in our head. We eat when we want to and whatever we want to. I never exercise because you say I'm not the kind of person who gets fat.
When it gets cold you start a fire. Not the wood fires but the newer electric fires. After all you're part of an NGO the talks about sustainability.
You have so much energy I can never catch up. You hate sitting still, and me, I crave such moments of peace. With you life is a tempest. But I'd rather be here than any other place. I'd rather share you with the million other things you do, than not have you at all.
Then I open my eyes, with the now smudged kohl, and I know you're only a dream now. A dream that still makes me happier than my every reality.
Do you remember? Are you forcing yourself to forget?
Do you still have your passions? Is there still a bird in you that longs to break free? Or has that flown away long ago, leaving behind a man, who doesn't understand the starry eyed girl?
Because I know I'm still the girl with the stars in her eyes. And I wish I knew if you are that boy. The cocky one. The one who knew it all. The one I wanted to show off for. To make you sit up and notice me.
Do you still remember me? Do you smile fondly when you think of the silly things I say? And how I kept you up one night giggling over a joke I didn't remember?
Do you still have an overwhelming desire to kiss me? Do you still want to grab hold of me every time you think of me? Spin me around till we're both so dizzy and the world turns with us? Do you still love me?
Do you still smack and unsmack your head when you're drunk?
Will you be just as adorable as you used to be?
Because today you're just making me cry. I hate crying it's so messy.
You say I'm in the past, and that it no longer matters.
Someday I'll fly out to you. And you'll sit up and take notice again. And you'll wonder why you ever thought you'd forget.
Because you never go away.
© Copyright 2016 Neha Jayaram. All rights reserved.
Essay / Romance
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