Parting Letter to the Once loved

Parting Letter to the Once loved

It twists and turns,

I rot and burn.

It holds my heart and wrenches it.

I want, then don’t,

Feel warm and cold,

And fall apart as and when it hits.

This thing in me,

Which you can’t see,

Can’t heal itself like common flu.

I’ve died of shame,

Was born again,

To bear alone, as you won’t do.

I tried to stall,

Gulped bile and gall,

And wished time to move a little slow.

Even though I tried,

Agreed and denied,

This thing in me continued to grow.

Just hold me tight,

Just help me fight,

That’s all I ever asked of you.

You had turned away,

As I begged you to stay,

Was sex all you wanted to do?

The last I say,

On my last day,

It is the last you will ever see of me.

I wish you to feel,

Just what it will feel,

The baby, I’m about to kill with me.

I have been religiously popularizing this fact that I am one of the very few fortunate people leading a blessed boring life. The past twenty years of my existence have been as smooth as a baby’s behind (and for the record, I am 20 years young at this moment). Or one can also claim that I have a very selective memory. My mind tends to erase any embarrassing thought, every painful memory and each distasteful deed. I might have considered it to be a fortunate thing but there is minor (alright, moderately major) thing that stops me from coming to this conclusion. My mind does not even store proud, happy and euphoric moments! It is not that I did not have any thing to be embarrassed or proud of! I am sure I must have felt terribly under/ over dressed at some party or must have been obnoxiously snobby after receiving some trophy in my school days. But I just can’t remember! If I were to become a celebrity some day and if this question would have come up during an interview with a leading magazine: What is your most memorable moment till date? I would have to think or maybe lie or maybe just give the reporter some philosophical bullshit as to how the memorable moment is yet to come and all that jazz. Another question that would bother me is: If you had to erase one day from your life or go back and change something, what would it be? This would shut me up again. Just two days back I had prayed to god to let me live the past ten minutes of my life again because I had crashed my car in a pillar. But a week from now, I won’t even remember this incident (Another reason might be that I crash my car ever so often!). I don’t remember how I was proposed to, I don’t remember being in the emergency room to get stitches, I don’t remember what songs I danced to on my parent’s 25^th anniversary, I don’t even remember the time when I had cried my eyes out for something. I just can’t remember. Maybe as compensation, I have a weirdly visual mind. You just need to say something and POP! An image relating to it would come to my mind. When someone narrates a personal experience, I see it happening live in my mind. So, I found a way to store my memories too. I keep a diary. My emotions, my feelings, my thoughts go in it as it is. And when I re-read it, I see myself living those emotions again. So all those holiday trips, all those funny moments with friends, the times when I felt proud or wickedly angry or bitchy are preserved in the pages of my diary. And the moments I don’t want to relive have no space in my memoirs, and hence, are forgotten for ever.

Maybe this is one reason I have always maintained that I am a good person, because the evil deeds are forgotten! :P