Thursday, March 28, 2013

Letter to a stranger

It came to me yesterday, in a flash.
As the miserable, lonely night ticked away into oblivion,
As the morning mist fogged up my windows,
As the merciless sun rose higher up in the sky,
It came to me slowly like that-
Over the years, over all of eternity.
This bizarre, unacceptable truth.
But then it can't possibly be.
You and me.
We are only figments of each other's imagination.
We are not real, never meant to be.
And I knew I didn't wanna pine for you,
But then I already was.

The day begins and ends on the same note.
People stand still, while life passes them by.
If someone asks me how I fare,
I smile and reply that I do well.
But you never come back, nor turn around.
You are gone a long, long way from home.
On a never-ending quest, headed for the unknown.
While I sit by the window, reading a book.
Listening to the music of the raindrops outside.
I know I am, but, a forgotten memory.
But my silly little heart, it won't understand.
And I realize, I didn't wanna pine for you.
But then I already was.

You were but a beautiful stranger I met.
On a dismal, wintry day a long time back.
Along the desolate highway, we walked-
And talked about the forever kind of love.
And then you waved goodbye with a smile that took my breath away.
But I didn't let it show and waved right back, 
Hiding away the tears I couldn't possibly shed.
You became a distant dot in the western horizon
While I stood there watching you shrink even smaller.
And I knew I wouldn't pine for you.
Not at all. Not then. Not ever.
But then I already was.
And it was too late to stop.


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