The Love Letter that was too late

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How do I even begin to say this?

Everything that is happening today is bringing alive so many thoughts and feelings that I hadn’t allowed myself to have since a long time, so I needed to push thru that door that shuts out the past, tear thru the cobwebs and blow the dust off that book of memories. The story of you and me. Not like it actually ended, but like we had envisioned it, together.

I can fill pages with superlatives to describe you or write poetic comparisons about our love but I will not because today that’s not what you need to know and it’s not what I need to tell you.

I will tell you something that I haven’t yet.

I wish that I could say that I think of love when I think of us, but that would be untrue. When I think of you, I think of heart break, like I never experienced before and fortunately after that. The heartbreak that split my life into two parts. The before and the after the B.C.E. and the A.D.

Even then, even then I think of you with tenderness. You gave me that crucial piece of a fairy tale that has made it possible for me to live through the mundane reality of life and for that I am forever grateful.

I sense the distance too, the time that has passed has created a space between us that I know neither of us can cross.

We were gloriously in love. Were.

And now all that remains is your perfume in the air that is so faint that I wonder if it is real or just a perverse trick of my nostalgic mind.

I think of you in quiet moments. I think of you in the midst of everything else. And I will always wonder, what could have been. You were always something else. So many are the possibilities in my mind that we’ve visited together. I can never stop thinking about you.

Not yet.

I don’t know why I am saying this now, as you stand at the precipice of staring a new life, maybe a life that you will grow to love, maybe a life that you love already. But this need to say it is stronger than anything else I have ever felt. So for this last time, bear with me and hear me out and try, just try to feel what I am trying so hard to say.

I have come a long way from that angry, confused girl who you fell in love with under the coconut trees in the summer heat. I am not her anymore and you are not the boy I fell in love with either. At least not wholly. But there is still something left between us, isn’t it?

There are so many things that I want you to know, but there isn’t enough time, there never was.

Just know that when you left, you opened the door of the cage. And you never looked back. Had you turned around to look, you’d have seen me trapped in a cage with an open door. A cage I just couldn’t leave till it was too late. If you turned around now, you will find, a tiny part of me in the cage, still a willing prisoner.

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2 thoughts on “The Love Letter that was too late

  1. Ah. This is also perfect. Seriously, you have a way with words. Also, I like your blog enough to periodically come back and stalk it. Only because of your eloquence. 🙂

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