Letter to Love

:)

I had to find the music to feel at ease writing this letter as it mellifluously makes its way to all corners of my room and soul. So, love, this is a letter to you. How could I not? In a year where I have had to deal with all possible variations of you -- part-time, strange, infatuation, surreal, I-thought-it-is-real, and of course, heartbreaks and coping up -- how could I not? The year is coming to an end, and did you once think I would not address you? That I could not hear you, yearning to hear from me?

Hi, loved one. Since we must ideally begin from the beginning to begin a narrative, I begin with a sorry to have poised myself as someone completely averse to your grandeur and beauty when I was younger. I was an idiot. I even posed to be someone aggressively non-feminine, when in my heart all I ever desired was to be wooed by you, to be flattered by love letters, to deck up in your flame for someone, to be pretty. So, it is, I believe, quite understood that I have had to shove you up the most distant tree trunk, unreachable. But, the thirst for you was unquenchable. And in that dire self-imposed attempt to be and not being, I fell all the time the teenage moment I decided to give in. I did not identify with what I wanted out of you and uncomplainingly settled with every time you appeared from a touchable branch. I learned fast, but never as fast as I unlearned.

You completely conquered me. Each time. And then you dismantled me just when I believed that I had grown, or worse, grown out. Into multiple fragments. Each colour as vivid as the other, but without. Lonely. And up each single time, stronger. Or that is what I believed, or liked to believe. I do not know whether to be angry at you, with you, or just be the way I mostly am -- let you be. The storm of my life, unsettling, yet, each time as much invited, possibly mistaking you for a gentle breeze.

And then there are your reappearances. They just break me apart freshly. Like a bread just out of the oven, the smell is so enticing that you cannot but break into the first bite. You can never quite keep a bread a bread, you ought to have it, right away. Have you ever realized how compellingly you have ruled my life? Almost overruling all other emotions. As finely as I let you to. 

How could I then not have written out to you for so long? You hurt, you see. For each smile, each joy, there are seas of sorrow. And one gradually matures to evade pain, even if it brings in deeper, immature pain. You are so beautiful, you hurt.

Love, would it hurt to meet again, to stay? 

K.