Twit bought me a pink daisy and I don’t know what to do with it. It’s so pretty. But with every passing second life is drained out of it. Every time you give someone a bouquet of flowers, she is holding a bunch of beheaded plants which had died because they are pretty.
On a larger scale, everyone we hold are dying anyway. Babies, dogs, loved ones.
But the comfort of someone loving you and insisting on meeting despite not knowing the context, supercedes all sadness of holding a dying flower. Over exaggeration I know, but receiving a flower is one thing that makes me feel strange, happy and upset all at once.
I accept that we have our baggages, and some that we can’t bare to others, as much as we would like to.
But you, I wish so much for a chance for us to begin everything from the beginning, and start all over again.
I wish that I can compromise, that I won’t be eaten inside out by my thoughts.
I almost did, you see. I was almost willing to turn a blind eye and carry on. It took a call from a very dear loved one to drag me back down from taking the plunge.
And for the first time I told him a big lie which cannot be clarified to him ever - that’s the second line which I am willing to cross for you, and that is what I am the most upset over, because I don’t know when I will do something that will change me and make me not myself any more.
I wish so much for us to be able to begin again. To do it right again. To go back to the ‘hi’; to set the right tone.
But I wouldn’t have wanted you any other way. I wouldn’t have wanted us to be any other way. I wouldn’t want to see the places we were at any other way.
I wish you would know how much I love your laughter - not the self deprecating one you laugh at your own jokes - but the distracted laughter you have when you’re doing something and I say some nonsensical things to distract you further.
I wish you would know how much I love watching you getting all riled up over matters that you believe are not handled properly, and yet how calmly you dealt with horrible drivers.
I wish I could tell you so much more, to tell you that you’re my favourite part of the day, that I worry for you, I care about you, and I would not have wanted this any other way.
So this is how a heartbreak feels like.