Sunday, September 09, 2007

A love letter

I was digging through my inbox just today and I discovered this long hidden love letter which my friend wrote for his girlfriend and it was somehow forwarded to me. It is such a wonderful letter. With the dust having settled, this letter can now hopefully be reproduced.

Just as you might think I would have, alas, jettisoned this blog after my affair with melancholy and existentialism is over, I am afraid I would have to report a disapointment: because this page is going to stay like a stubborn stain or a stitched-up scar, sometimes you try to convince yourself to forget about it; but open your eyes and there it still is.

after more than a year, what is really, truly, any different? the choices that you had that I could never understand. you could throw it all away, or you could throw it back to me... I won't leave. Before you jump to a vacuous (i don't know why but recently i discovered i have a penchant for this word) assumption that I am still penning for C. (my ex-), I would like to assure you markedly that this is NOT the case.

I live my days latticed with thoughts about you, you are like my heart which beats so saliently yet taciturnly in the background, like a quiet little daughter who would tug behind her father as he goes around during the day. when others have found that piece of courage, when that moment peers at me in the face, i cower inwards, a snail into its shell. and in this curled-up existence of mine, entwined with seemingly numerless complications, ramifications and what-nots, when there is so little space to manuver, the last thing i would ever want to lose is you. yet, introspectively, in this game of love i know that not throwing the ball is tantamount to an admission of defeat. but would not the defeat be greater with a painful score? even the most occluded, myopic dimwit could see that with just a curosy glance, so what about me? what makes this infantile hope of mine seep through this fortress of apathy I have gone to extreme measures to affect?

I guess I am no different from anybody you meet on the street. Give me a name, think of a favourite hobby for me, hell even give me my hair color. With or without me, life would still be the same and it would go on for you. On rainy days when the lights of your room seem to glisten in the tiny rain drops that glide along the windows, a sudden thought of me might just blaze across your mind. When you try to call me on your mobile, that moment, that moment might just be too late.

This is nothing but part of my whimiscal imagination, a figment of my most absurd fantasy. Yet even the tallest buildings which scrap the skies and cut through so arrogantly and snobbishly through the clouds have their roots in the most mundane and humble earth. So what is saying that it is impossible between us?

Please! Try as I might I falter so desperately to harden my heart for you. I could have charmed the most potent cocktail of persuasions to move away from you, but just one word from you would suffice to shred this all away. You have enchained me with the wordless, ineffable, inexplicable yet so deeply, mysteriously alluring charm you so intensely exude... yet the key to break myself free from these shackles lies hidden in the depths of my heart. If I could only find the combination to unlock the courage that I know lies within! You fucking fool!

I could never see myself walking down that horizon with you. I could hold the world in the palms of my hands yet be bankrupt if you take that path out of my life. And what would remain would be the paradise of Eden textured with the most saturated of colors, curlicued with susuratting trees reaching out with fingers of frothy foliage to catcht he languid landings of turqoise birds, but they will all be a monochromatic grey to me, this greyness that spreads like a contagious disease, a plague because my heart is so vacant without you.

Yet I know, years may come and go, I will never be able to look you in the eye and tell you a sentence in all honesty. What a fraud. I have connived with the devil, and my morality laid corrupt. Why, oh why, you lay so high above on a pedestial, on a mirror reflections it seems I am up there and you are not? Shatter these deceiving reflections! Because what lies beneath is neither you nor me, but the empty wooden wall that this mirror fronts.

This melancholy, this you and me, it's sitting beside me now.

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