Do you remember those high school days when we used to write letters to each other? I hope you don , at least I hope you don want to. Tell me one thing; do people really get over each other? Could they possibly, though? Human interactions are, I believe, unique and once made, they have already carved their everlasting marks on your very existence, the way you have made yours in mine. I find it quite ironic that even after carrying the everlasting marks, now we don even talk to each other.
The world is a perplexing place, don you think? Its been quite a long time since we parted ways. Yet occasionally, at midnight- the most awfully vulnerable time- I think of you. Although Im not very certain of what exactly I think of, the person or the memories, my senses are overwhelmed with thoughts. An incoherent chain of thoughts that makes me wonder and keeps me wide awake as I blankly stare at the darkness of my room. Even when Im asleep, I dream of you quite often. You know, I wonder a lot, about a lot of things about you. The idea that perhaps sometimes we think of each other, maybe rather unwillingly or very unconsciously, at the same time embarrasses me. I keep asking myself, perhaps for the millionth time, what if things went alright. What if this or what if that. There are just zillions of these what ifs.
Do you remember Annies Song? God, thats such a sweet, warm melodious river of words that, once you listen to it, would gently flow through your heart, calling out your name. When it calls out mine, I follow the sound, and it always leads me back to you. You know, John wrote it, with so much affection, for his first wife. As youve already guessed, it wasn a happily-ever-after thing. And it scares me. I kept asking, why is love not enough, Jaowad?
Of memories and melancholy, the wonders are still the same. You never ceased to amuse me. In this shared introspection, perhaps there is an unexplainable connection that transcends the silence between us. I hope that is for the best.
