The Art of Letting go.
I was nothing less than a train wreck after you were gone.
The memories overwhelm me as I try to gulp the bitter coffee , distracting myself from the lumpy throat.
I talk to the others and fill up the mundane hours of my day but it doesn’t suffice.
I stare at the asphalt roads and wonder why we couldn’t traverse them.
The empty bed resonates of a thousand beautiful moments.
They stay locked up in the Polaroids as I try to sidle a glance every time I decide not to.
I laughed that day after a very long time, and guilt took over.
Today, the coffee doesn’t hurt.
I’ve learnt to hold myself together with tape and glue.
I’ve stitched the wounds.
Maybe I won’t find a hand to hold again but I’ll walk the roads alone.
Everyday I wish things never turned out this way.
I wish we didn’t have to get stuck in a Polaroid.
Now, the memories visit me and they’re more beautiful than ever.
It’s a Something Borrowed from Sayali Patil