I miss you

This post is for whoever it is from India that views my blog so often (I learnt from my wordpress stats). I wish you’d leave a comment so that I know who you are 🙂

I miss you. I miss you, as much as I did the day I picked up my phone to call you and realised I couldn’t call you anymore, as much as I did days later when I wrote on my diary that I might never get over you, as much as I did when I saw your pictures instead of your presence besides me… I never missed you more, I never missed you less, I miss you just as much.

You

To all those people in my life that remind me that beautiful things do exist.

You remind me of the smell of nail polish, poignant and sharp. You remind me of summer shorts and beach umbrellas; colorful and warm. You remind me of the layer of dust settled on an old book – the sense of beauty beneath your skin. The smell of history. You remind me of rainbows and unicorns and all those things so magical and mystic to ever be true. You remind me of lullabies; of fireflies, a perfect play of darkness and light. You remind me of high heels and handbags; those fancy things. You remind me of antiques and hand-downs, battered with memories of pain and struggle. Of love and life. You remind me that beautiful things do exist.

What if I told you that everything you know about me is not true? What if I told you there’s more to the story that you’ve heard… Would you shake it off and say that all that you know is enough, or would you judge me all over again?