Look up! You fill the skies and demand attention that cannot be distracted. You make the stars jealous with your moonbeams. Come with me and let us once again get lost in the stray beams of this rare moon to slowly find ourselves again in the darkness that once contained our light.
Don’t forget to get away every once in awhile,
To lose yourself in a book.
Or in the streets behind your home,
Riding your bike into the sunset at the beach.
Sit on your front steps and count the cars passing by,
Lay on your roof and gaze up at the night sky.
Drive along backroads with the windows rolled down,
Listening to nothing but the sounds all around.
I hope you take the time to be alone,
To sort through the cluttered shelves of your heart.
I hope you take the time to be silent,
To close your eyes and just listen to your heart.
I hope you take the time to be still,
To quiet your mind and experience the beauty of simply being.
In a world that tells us we should always be connected,
on the go, and doing something worth sharing.
I hope you know it’s okay to disconnect, slow down, and keep some memories;
Between you and the moment you shared it with.
I know its the ‘gram with pictures that strike, but there more you can do than the 395 posts you’ve liked!
She was the innocent child thrown out to the wolves and learnt to crave his knife to lead the pack instead. Adventure was her snowflake that beckoned her to come out and play. Through the looking glass at the end of the tunnel she stood; taking her breath away was the last thing on his mind. She was never his or her own. She belonged to something far too unknown. She detested recycled stories of boy-meets-girl. Yet, she got entangled in his dream catcher and all she could do was stare. Weak men ran away from her cause they lacked the strength to fix the broken. He was a fixer and knew exactly how many and where the stitches go!
A late night walk in the corridors that she didn’t know a year ago,
She stared at the twins as they put on a show.
They played hide and seek, finding herself alone on that street;
She watched them gamble with the dice,
the amusement of finding one’s vice.
Treating it like a game, she found this and never felt the same.
Everyone begs to be found, you’ll always have something to hide,
All you need to do is free your imprisoned pride.
Let’s call a truce and change the spots,
shuffle the same old rules by marking on ‘em new dots.
Shake up your faith and stop playing the fool,
let’s pretend its your first day back at school.
She stands in front of you, fifty-one floors under,
this game of hide and seek wasn’t her biggest blunder.
She was a swimmer but knew how to drown first,
for others who only saw in her the worst.
Never made an effort to grab onto a float,
she rejoiced her drown, with a cocktail of happy-gloat!
Sometimes she wondered if she drowned in the depths of her own heart, the sound of a raging drum proclaimed her to start.
So she picked up her mighty pen; seven, eight, nine and ten;
inscribed the digital ink with experiences in sums,
Ready or not, here she comes!
Translucent stars get cloaked by the glittering elevation,
They douse the yellow burning on boulders that lack sensation.
A tin-plated bowl plays pretend as porcelain cup,
pressured by the maintainance of going up, up and up.
His loneliness came in waves,
every time he visited his brother’s grave.
This is biggest of reason why he took off,
to live across the desert far from the trough.
He pressed down every emotion and kept it pressed against the last, new ones began to take form with secrets of his past.
He had earned a dance with the devil, cursed by his days of revel.
He uncovered a million reasons why he shouldn’t stay,
For reasons he never figured, what was he supposed to do to not run away.
And so he left where silence felt like a familiar existence,
his doorway locked out from world’s insistence.
He lived far away in resistance from the city of daze,
a place where the yellow sunlight gleams, created a haze.
Surrounded by rows of empty parking lots lit by floodlights of reason, through his window he witnessed the metamorphosis of season;
In gardens of sober logic, he lived exotic.
His heavy casing of heart began to soften,
with every passing day he saw often.
He admired her from afar her glow was irresistible,
he drew close to her love like it was inescapable.
All this while he carried his burden with thorns of grief,
his heart had healed when he sighed a relief.
After days months and years, he lifted his hands to the heavens,
and prayed for all his sins that were left unforgiven.
The world spin around again and was not flat,
Look what happens with love like that?
It wasn’t a rushed lunch hour or waiting for one running late,
Everyone wonders why she is in this poor state!
Don’t pity her, it was a choice she made,
She didn’t bat one eyelid so stop throwing her shade.
An unapologetic introvert although not the socially awkward,
She sat at the table rewinding it backwards.
It was the hardest thing she had to do,
She has been living up to the expectations of two.
So she took a little walk, so we could have the talk,
While everyone else around her gawked.
She talked for long hours,
Solved numerous problems that leaned higher than these towers.
A soul that matched hers, the one she remembered in tears,
Enough fire to burn down a small town,
Sometimes she’d even play the clown.
They weren’t lovers nor were they friends,
They were in it for life and knew how to make amends.
It was her! Always had been, the daytime fortresses she built,
Set her free without any guilt.
It was the easiest conversation to start
and the most difficult to finish.
This is why she hid from the world and picked up where she left off.
She had been here before,
Didn’t expect company any more,
She walked up straight and said aloud, “Table for one, please!”
‘Will there be a join?’
‘No, I’ll pay by my own coin.’
Table for one and it’s completely fine.
She used to sit at it and eat and read and sleep and cry and wine.
She ate alone, blissfully unencumbered by any concerns,
And all the while the world turns.
When it happens, you won’t want to believe it. You’ll take their word for it when they say they’re busy with their new boyfriend, their work or life in general. You’ll make excuses for them, put your ringer on extra loud in case they call. But you’ll still feel the change, and because you can’t rationalize it, you’ll try to ignore it.
It’s a specific kind of loneliness that hits you like a wave of nausea. When the two of you are having a beer and you realize that you have both been staring out the same window for twenty minutes, nothing to say, the opposite of a comfortable silence. When they cancel plans consistently and stall when giving you reasons. When you scroll through your contacts and stop at their name and almost call but don’t, feeling suddenly, inexplicably, abandoned and confused.
Is it just me or does everyone lose their “best” and “closest” friends during their 30s? Travel expedites the process of separation and exposes the quality of your friendships. Being away frays the weak bonds you attempt to maintain while strengthening the ones that will withstand the distance of time and space. Imagine throwing a party, having a great time, going to grab a drink, and turning around to see everyone is suddenly gone. It’s sudden, shocking, and very depressing.
However, after establishing that I really do want to hang out, you begin to wonder how strong the bond is when you’re doing all the work. When your texts go unanswered and plans constantly get cancelled, you see the writing on the wall.
Sometimes there’s no huge fight that marks the end of a friendship. No falling out, no major disagreement. Sometimes it just falls apart for no good reason. Distance. New relationships. Priorities. Somehow these things can become more important than your connection; they shouldn’t but they do. And as we get older we tend to downsize, prioritize. Trim the corners of our lives, keeping what’s important and discarding what isn’t. Sometimes we stop needing people in our lives and it isn’t even conscious. No one wakes up in the morning actively thinking “Hmm, I think I’ll stop being friends with so-and-so today.” It just goes out with an empty fizz, like a cigarette hitting the bottom of a Coke can.
In so many ways, losing a close friend is worse than losing a lover. Lovers are transient for the most part but friends are supposed to be there for you always, or so we like to believe. Friendship is a special kind of love that’s not supposed to fade. When friendships end, it much worse than how you feel when relationships end. (You will understand this, only if you’ve been through it)
You never expect the one person you thought you could always depend on to disappear without saying goodbye. And when they do you feel sickeningly stupid and cheated, wondering what you meant to them all along, whether you were just convenient or in the right place at the right time. You never really know for sure.
You look through pictures from back when you were happy — holding each other up drunk and ecstatic, working on art projects on a rainy Sunday afternoon — and can’t understand what happened. Reach for the phone. Attach a photo to an email, start the subject line with some fusion of “Remember this?” and “I miss you…” Get suddenly overwhelmed by a horrible emptiness and discard the draft, leaving the phone untouched. History. So much history flushed down a dirty sink.
And the worst part is, you don’t even know how to explain yourself. You know if you bring this up with them they’ll give you a blank expression and a blank excuse. You don’t want to explain how you feel. You can’t. You just want them to get it, to read you like they used to be able to. You want to take them by the shoulders and shake them, screaming Where are you? What happened?! Until you’re blue in the face. But you can’t do that either, because you’re no longer on the same level and it’s going to make you feel crazy.
In life, it’s a given that you will lose people. People will flow in and out like curtains through an open window, sometimes for no reason at all. But losing someone important to you will feel like a suckerpunch every single time, and you’ll never see it coming. Which makes the friendships that do hold out, the ones that make it through countless breakdowns and breakthroughs and changes and years, so damn important.
Maybe one day the people who’ve left will wonder how I am and what I’m doing. Maybe a part of them will be sad that they don’t know. But what I do know is that while they were ghosting, those that stayed and I became closer.
And, for that, I am truly grateful.