Tag Archives: missing you

What would you tell your daughter?

So today my best friend read this article on thought catalog 101 things that I will teach my daughter. It is a beautiful article, It really is.

101 things I will teach my daughter, Here’s the link:
http://thoughtcatalog.com/leah-froehle/2014/03/101-things-i-will-teach-my-daughters/

Anyway after she read it she told me,”I saw that post on what would you tell your daughter and then I wondered what would I tell her. I thought what I would tell you is what I would tell her. So this is what I would tell you”

And then she sent me this:

“I would tell you to live wise but when has happiness come out of anything wise

I would tell you to live well but when has living well made us soar

I would tell you to put your chin up and look ahead but when has looking back not made us smile

When has sucking our stomachs in and conforming to relationship norms ever been our answer to finding true love

So no I won’t tell you how to breathe and how to fly I will tell you though to find your happiness.

No matter where it lies And not just happiness for today and tomorrow but happiness for life

If its behind the pages of books or under someone’s sheets or in the way the cold feels as it melts beneath your feet

If its staying in a shared apartment with people you don’t know in a strange land

or in a bus full of strange men who play in a band

Whatever it is and wherever it is, find it. Want it and love it.

Do it now because it should be something that makes you happy even when you lay your head down to sleep for the last time.

You are the only one who will live your life and the only one to write in its pages.

Don’t be stuck out here, living in other people’s cages”

 

This is the single most beautiful thing that I’ve read And I have the best best friend in the world, I can never thank my stars enough for her. I think everyone needs to read this because 

1. It’s beautiful

2. It’s honest and real

3. I like to brag about having the best best friend in the world. yes. This is me showing off how much she loves me. 

Imaginary audience, are you jealous?

Oh, you should be. You should be.

So tell me, What would you tell your daughter?

Continue reading What would you tell your daughter?

A Letter in my drawer

February 1st, 2014

 

Hey, it’s been a while. How have you been, how are things? Is college still as new and shiny as you thought it was or do you now occasionally get tired or even bored of the same old conversations and the same shit over and over again or do you embrace the rut? I’m getting better. I don’t feel like crying the tears which refuse to come out anymore, I feel like the hurricane of emotions is slowly turning into a drizzle and will soon just be the muck in the gutters, uncared for and ignored. I’m okay.  Getting better. I feel like I did after the first break up, but it’s easier because I don’t have to see your face day in and day out, and because I can no longer revolve my every move around you or how’ll I bang into you in the middle of a street, out of the blue. I cant do that anymore. I’m trying to distract myself. I go out and I try to make friends and I did succeed (till an extent). The other night I spoke to this guy till 5 in the morning, I told him about you and what had happened; didn’t give him the details but just told gave him a rough outline of our timeline. I haven’t spoken to anyone since you till 5 AM, I felt like I was cheating on you. Kissing other guys is different, that’s my way of getting back at you and in my weird diabolic mind it does make sense though in reality it doesn’t because you don’t care. I enjoy being promiscuous, I need the attention from you, I need you to yell at me and I need you to ask me to stop but it’s too late now and I can’t stop.. I feel like I’m drowning in my own personal hell. It’s so hard, I kiss others and end up texting someone back home, someone I trust saying that I miss you and that I wish you were here. Sometimes I don’t get myself, but then again neither did you  and since you are logical and rational I must be pretty damn fucked up. I feel like wasting away sometimes and it makes it easier, it strengthens the walls and I honestly don’t care about those guys. I care for them, some of them but it’s purely platonic none of it involving the heart. I don’t let anyone penetrate that deep. Pun intended. I don’t want to hurt them, any of them but sometimes it’s inevitable and though I make it absolutely clear in the beginning somehow it doesn’t always work that way. For if we humans knew to control the workings of the heart, Our lives wouldn’t be such heartbreaking tragedies. Our timeline which spans over two years is frankly very weird. I am scared of saying things now, you know, things which maybe misinterpreted or just interpreted. I’m so very scared and you aren’t here, I now think that you are dead (metaphorically, Ammu’s idea) so I talk to you in my head and have imaginary conversations with you when I crave your company which isn’t very often but I do crave to see your face. I miss it. I miss the fact that you were there, somewhere in the shadows, in the background, I miss having that tiny ray of hope. That too is gone now and it kills me that that something which i thought was so profound and felt so fiercely for, was all this while in my head. But isn’t that all life is about? Life is all about ‘the idea of something’ and how we run behind that idea, day in and out for to find that the idea of it was much better than the reality which is so very different, but we go on lying to ourselves, convincing ourselves of things otherwise, disbelieving what we see, imagining glances which had never passed, words which had never been uttered and end up believing something that never really happened. It gets harder with each passing day and you are vanishing, from my memory. You are decaying and turning into an idea of you and are no longer you. I now, only remember the altered happy memories, the sad ones are deep suppressed and inaffective. Life does go on and I’ll be okay and I’ll like someone once again, one day. I know that. But i’ll be scared to be so very passionate about it and reckless and impulsive. You know why didn’t’ out of sight out of mind’ work with us, with me to be specific because you are so deeply rooted in my system that I can’t filter you out. You introduced me to the things I now love, and I introduced you to the things I Loved and none of them are truly, completely mine anymore. The music I used to listen to 3 years back and my playlist now are two sides of a coin. Apart but joined together by that rim. My favorite movies which you quote and which i quote day in and day out were actually both our favorite movies, our favorites as individuals. My favorite books aren’t my favorite books they are that book he thought was boring, the book he loved, the book he could relate to, the book he didn’t read. All my favorites, all the things that make me happy, all the people I love, all my happy memories, Home, My dog they all revolve around you. Isn’t it weird? How can one separate the yin from the yang? You’ve been the catalyst, you set things in motion and now you have walked out of the stadium saying that it’s my turn to make it big. How can I make my mark, when the very force that drove me to do it when i was in the pits, refuses to acknowledge my  existence? My memories show you as the big looming figure with a husky voice and that smile. I miss your smile, I miss it so much. That smile could end wars and cure cancer, it could make the sun shine and bring out the silver lining. That smile changed things. . Do you still smile when someone says that she can’t finish her burger after begging for a burger all day? Do you still smile someone changes her earrings and hit it lightly with your finger? Do you still wrap your arms around someone’s waist and put your head against her stomach for a while, out of the blue? Do you still start walking when you laugh? Do you still believe in 20 minute post-sex power naps? Do you still like your noodles soupy? Do you still like your breakfast simple and nothing fancy? Do you still want to smoke up very often and claim to do so but are terrible at handling yourself after? Do you still overanalyse everything and every word? Do you still think of me, ever, as anything? Do you still borrow books and not read them and never return them? Do you still scratch your chin when you are stuck somewhere? Do you still care? Because I do. I can never be just friends with you, you were right. It’ll be too hard to see you stand there in front of me without the prospect of touching your face later in the evening, It’ll be too hard to hear you talk about someone else or see you with another person. How did you do it? But then again what I feel for you still exists and you stopped feeling for me back in February 2012. So it’s okay. I don’t blame you or myself, I’m done playing the blame game, I just miss your face. I miss the part of me that was you, I miss the conversations we could have had and we do have in my head. I miss you so much that it physically hurts and there is this feeling of in my throat, it feels like someone is drowning there, in that abyss and it refuses to go away. You are in my Jack Daniels and my Led Zeppelin, you are in my favorite heels and favorite ring, you are all my favorite things and you have ruined them for me in a way because i don’t know if they are still my favorite because of their beauty or because i shared them as memories with you. I can’t separate one from another and it sucks. I miss you so. You made the right choice. This is the correct thing to do, but it makes me so sad. So sad that the ashes in my throat refuse to go away and the thought of your smile makes me sick.It’ll be okay, I’ll be fine. You do to me what the sun does to the first snow, you make me disappear into the pits of the gutter, make me feel insignificant and foolhardy for trying to bring the change, you do to me what cruel do to the stray, pick them up to bring them crashing down or not. you never did any of these things, I wish you had it’d make it easier for me to get over it but..

I’ll be okay, right? I hope you are okay too. You always appear to be fine, but i hope you really really are okay and fine. Oh and before i forget, I miss you a lot. I’ll write again, in the meanwhile i’ll try and be okay and you, go ahead make your mark. I’m here.

Dear Bestfriend

Dear best friend,

I hope all is good. I’m fine here too, I guess. I sleep late and wake up even later (i’m not sure if it’s grammatically correct, but hey you are no grammar nazi. ) I talk too much and sleep even more. I think about you everyday and on bad days every second of the day. Things are okay, I guess. I guess a lot these days, I’m not certain of anything. The things I’ve been certain of all my life, I’m no longer sure of them. I’m no longer opinionated, or stubborn. I’m easy. I forgive, I forget, I see what I want to, I hear what I want to. I don’t know anything, best friend. I’m not even sure of you or us or anyone. Now , when I’m angry I sit and stare at the wall and do the same when I’m happy. I don’t have to tell everyone, everything anymore. I just tell almost everyone, almost everything. I especially omit the bits which people are supposed to know. 

I no longer, run back home to call you and tell you what happened, because I can’t. Instead I come back, stare at the phone, don’t even try to talk to the pre-recorded freak on the otherend of the phone telling me that you’ll be available in an instant. What is an instant anyway? It’s how you define it. In the course of life these 50 whatever days will seem like an instant, but right now they are longer that the year and half I spent with you. SO when upset, angry or confused, I stare at the phone, re-run the situation and the conversation in my head and imagine what would you say and try to tell myself the same.

It’s not getting any easier, with time. I just look for more flaws in what we have and ignore all the good bits. I hate the fact that you are so far away. I hate not being able to tell you things and not having to hear what you have to say about it. I hate not being able to sleep when I want to, I hate not knowing how you are and who you are with. I hate feeling so alone, in a room full of people. I miss your reactions and your laugh and I hate guessing. Guessing if you are fine and if I am fine, and if I’ll get what i want and if what you got is what you want and all the million other questions tha I can’t figure out. It’s hazy the future and so is the past because I wonder if it were true. I just feel stupid now. And alone, really alone. 

Dear best friend, everything is bleak and I miss you so much. A win isn’t a win till I can tell you about it, a day isn’t a day till you know all about it, my jokes are almost grey now. They are so bad that people think that I’m talking and not cracking a joke, I’ve to tell them that it was a joke and they look at me with wonder, thinking is she retarded? I can’t tell people how I really feel about something, I can’t tell my friends my secrets because I feel you need to know about them before they do and so I shut down and go back to staring at the wall. I talk endlessly and thoughtlessly so people don’t know how much I miss you. I miss you so much, It hurts. physically sometimes. I want to tell you about the book I read, the police chap I fought with, the new watch, my lost earring, the bruise on my arm, example 41 in integration, how this cloud looked like you, how I’m going to marry a chicken samosa seller, how i’m broke, about my new shoes, and the old ones, momo and his ticks (he’s friends wth them I guess), this window in my room which is like a rabbit, this song I heard recently, my favorite new shirt, about when I ate my newly grown nails amd I can go on forever.

I can’t be rational, like I promised and i can’t take care of myself, because I hate it. I hate taking care of myself, eating on time, wearing a jacket when cold, taking my medicines and being sane. I hate it. I hate being responsible and careful and I miss you. 

I miss you a lot, I never thought it was humanly possible to miss someone like this, best friend. I don’t care who you hung out with because I doubt they know you like I do. I guess they don’t. I love you, dear best friend. you are still here, I guess ; whispering jokes in my ears, making my hair before parties, crticising me when I’m stupid and never saying ‘ i told you so ‘ Instead you are here, laughing at my newest mistake and telling me how awesome I’m because I make your life so entertaining. You are my brightest star in the sky, my sirius. 

The sirius to my James, The harry to my hermione, galazy tab to my alarm clock and the yin to my yang.

Have I told you how much I miss you? I guess, I can never say this enough. 

Yours, I guess.

Always.