You have a home in my heart

Of late, I like to think about all the fun we had. You know, the raucous laughing encounters. The standing in the cold for hours just talking. I recall that it took forcing ourselves to part ways. The conversations in person about something other people would prefer to resolve over the phone because it seems trivial.

The magical dwindling of emotional walls between us to allow for deep trust to build was nothing short of breathtaking.

We once had our heads in the clouds, happiness all round. It never occurred to me that we would fall so spectacularly. Gravity has brought us down.

Remember the days when we could talk about anything for many hours at a time? When being in each other’s presence was all that mattered — when that accounted for a large portion of our happiness. The partying. The senselessness at times. Those times left an indelible mark in my heart.

Thus, you have a home in my heart.

An unlikely pairing we were. A surprise, really. We made no sense from an outsider’s perspective. We received skewed looks often. I am just not sure whether you ever noticed. It became amusing after a while.

I, to be honest, and because of how awesome we are together, never wanted to part ways. But then again, I equally never wanted to take away from you. I felt like you were flying and I held you back, weighing you down somewhat.

You should be free. Perhaps the second time around will be far better. If we have another go at building us.

And, even though I have tried to deny it, I will always have those deep feelings for you. Geniune love. That sort of love and care never gets erased easily. Immaterial of how we broke apart.

Sometimes, I feel like talking to you. So, I’d pick up the phone, pull up WhatsApp, and scroll to your name and instead of writing something, I stare at the empty typing pad. My mind fills with great times gone past that we shared. I never bring myself to proceed to call you or send a text message.

I’ve figured, acting like a hero is too easy than acknowledging the truth. But hey, it’s been painful going through losing you.

And of course, lingering hurts the heart even more. Mine has been savaged.

I’ve got to move on.

My love for you runs deep. But I’ve got to give that feeling to someone else now. Writing this note hurts. And I saw a person with the same physique as yours the other day, my body trembled. It was an unusual feeling to experience. I realised you are a special human being. That I still love you.

The mere mention of your name by a person who had no regard for it, no regard for the connection we shared, sent me through tumult not so long ago. Of course at the time, the conversation went on and I didn’t feel like I still miss you. Then I went home and my night was a mess. I was a mess. Feelings I had kept buried fought themselves out. They lay bare. I struggled sleeping that night.

But with that written, I’ve got to move on. I need to stop hurting myself. I need to express kindness, love and transform another person emotionally instead of looking backward at what we had.

But resolving to do that doesn’t necessarily make it easier and makes me wonder about how useful it is to try and salvage what has been shattered into thousands of pieces.

Coming to think of it, the weight of your love on my shoulders ought to be something I smile about. But now, it oppresses me. The warmth of your kiss I cannot deny, though. The warmth of your personality. The pride you gave me when I walked beside you. Those little things meant the world.

Proving you still have a home in my heart.