What is it like to have your heart broken by yourself? Nivedita said this to me two years or so back, that I wear my heart around in my sleeves - it's too easy for me to let anyone walk into my heart, step and waltz on it without a promise. She never said it was something bad. She just said she was worried that it would put me into a lot of hurt and pain one too many times. And she was true. She still is. But did I stop carrying my heart around in my sleeves? No, I didn't. I have just raised myself up to be someone who believes that the world will be a better place with more happiness and love in it rather than hatred and hard feelings. And, today here I am, 20 years old dreamer who walks around with her heart in her sleeves. Today, here I am, a giddy, light headed 20 year old girl who gets her heart broken one too many times. Most days, I don't have any complaints for myself about the way I am. But sometimes, I like to question - why does it have to be only me w...
Maybe you didn't know…maybe you still don't. The moment you said your name to me, I decided to keep it as my own and cherish it more than anything I had ever loved. Your name, your smile, your eyes and all the little things about you - I took it all in, soaked it all in, under my skin. And there is your smile etched perfectly in my heart like a mark of a vein running somewhere inside me, like a scar similar to the ones that line my wrists; but only with a different essence altogether. You also took my name. Almost promised to protect it, protect me from all the wrong and hurtful things out in the world. You hinted a sign - a sign that you were worth it and that is exactly why I let you in. And yet, here you are writing my name at the shore, watching as the waves take away pieces of me - one at a time, bit by bit. Maybe, you took it for granted. Maybe, you took me for granted. Well, I am everything, but that. You are probably thinking I have dr...
Here's a little rundown of bits and pieces from my memory at 22 years of age because I am suddenly pathetically hit by the lack of it. We were pea-sized, first grade kids when Aabha and I first met. We drifted apart for a few more years before she came back to our school from Pokhara. I was the first kid who recognized her from four years back when she was playing alone at the swings in our schoolyard. She had changed her name, her hair was different, our skin and bones had grown a lot. I just walked up to her quietly, sat on the swing next to her and asked her if she was the kid who had transferred somewhere from our school before. She was. Looking back at this now, it makes my heart fuzzy just thinking about how vivid this memory is inside my brain. I could probably even tell you what direction the wind was blowing in at that moment. And as someone who struggles with memory gaps, this feels like a huge feat, really. I am glad that Aabha and I are still pretty much the same as we ...
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