We were just happy in our own little oasis, complete with each other until you arrived, like a sandstorm and filled his eyes with sand making him falter.
I wasn’t just his favourite; he needed me like oxygen wasn’t enough for him. I wasn’t just his leisure; I was his secret pinch of magic dust which made every chore worth doing. Every other day it would be my duty to heal the wounds he received from the battlefield called life. Insomnia hit him more often than others and I would just caress his hair to make him sleep like a toddler.
I would have given up long ago, but hope is a bitch. The harder I try to believe it’s over, the harder she kindles that spark breathing beneath these ashes. His sillage still tickles my nose asking me to hold on. For this, I’ll try, a bit harder this time. He may not need me now because it’s too sunny outside. It’s too bright for him to see the difference. But, times change my dear, times change. Someday, the sky will don a darker shade. The masks will fall off. He will die a little more inside and all you could do is stand there helpless, staring at the tempest taking its shape around you both. When his glass of scotch will not be enough, you’ll fail to offer him the “high” he demands. When he will fail to do his job, you’ll fail to keep this universe in place. It’s because I know, not everyone can withstand the storms inside him.
For now, I might be just a skipped song on his playlist. Mind it, skipped not deleted. The day you’ll fail to fix his ripped soul, he will turn to me and I’ll seize the day and you will never see him again.
~ Vikalp Joshi (Words Of Wonder)
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