An open letter..

Dear Idiot,

They tell me,

“Don’t act like only girls feel heartbroken after someone leaves them.”

I asked myself then,

Must you not have felt broken after you realized that we weren’t together?

That’s why, I’m here, not able to tell you that I still call you mine,

Not able to tell you that

I miss you.

I miss you, so much, so much, so much.

I’m here, not able to text you,

writing an open letter.

And I’m going to tell everything about you and myself to them, and they are going to look at me as I paint my words, beautifully about  you, and your love.

Let me pick the shattered pieces and put it up together, and they are never going to be able to see through it,

‘cause it’s my blood that will stick us together, taut and colorful.

Black you were,

I was white.

Slowly you added grey to me, and I ponderously turned black too.

Now, we’re black and let’s go together until everyone believes that darkness is bliss.

And let’s not tell anyone that we’re different of the same soul, the same heart, and the same love.

That is what love did to me.

That is how love made me forget the contrast of anger and love itself.

I hate you now; I don’t want to talk to you,

But I just want to hold you; I want you kissing me.

I’m starving.

And I’m bleeding love, I’m crying thirst.

I want that love back, and I badly want you back.

‘cause now my mask’s coming off, and everyone’s gonna see who I am,

Insecure and tough to handle.

And I still remember the times, when you said,

“Forever…”

The forever that I’m living now.

Let me think,

I see myself, I see those hands you held tight once, and the lips that you used to cajole.

And I see those times, when you wanted another kiss, and I turned my back onto you.

Now, I’m on my knees, pleading for your presence and you’re nowhere to be seen.

Please open up again,

Please become the old you and take me back again to the times, when you told me that you would cry if I killed myself,

The old you to whom I looked ‘lovely’

And the old you, the same old you who couldn’t let go of me after a month of separation,

A month that haunted me till the darkest of my secrets.

When I wanted to do things with you, you were hopes.

When I did things with you, you were dreams.

And, now when I can’t do anything with you, you’re the rain that is drizzling on the strongest of my windows,

I ain’t able to touch you, I ain’t able to feel you, I ain’t able to cry too,

And,

Idiot,

I ain’t even able to see you,

As you stand right beside me.

Yours,

The one that you’re missing too.