This one’s about a girl I met seven years ago. At the time, she could be hardly more than 5 years old.. she’s probably about 12 now. Wherever you are Sajini, I hope you’re doing very well.

For the last few days I have not been able to keep you out of my mind… I remember the way you looked at me the first time I saw you; how you watched me. You watched as I nervously walked amongst the people you had no choice but being friends with. When I looked back at you, you turned away and in all your shyness you tried to walk, but you fell. I could see how much it hurt and you cried, but aware of my presence, you stopped yourself short. You looked back at me and all I saw were those beautiful eyes, drunk in tears, wanting to start a conversation but not knowing how. I mingled with the others, with you on my mind throughout and I could feel you staring at me as I talked to the others, as I held their hands, as I patted their backs and as I smiled at just how much they could do. When I thought you were ready to speak to me I came to you but you said no word at all. Somehow I understood everything you wanted to tell me. With an innocent smile that had survived through all you’ve been through you looked away from my eyes, explaining to me everything that was about you that you couldn’t say yourself. You were a beautiful story by yourself and I didn’t write it for seven years because I thought the story would never reach you. It could reach you today, or in many years or maybe it never will. But even if you make your way through my words to read those written about how you stole my heart the moment you touched my hand with your little fingers, you may not know I’m writing to you at all. You never learnt my name – I never told you, but I learnt yours – I asked for it. Someday I might meet you on the street and give you a smile that you’d be afraid to return because I would not be the same girl you recognized seven years ago, but let’s pretend like we know each other. Allow me to touch your hand, to rekindle the past.. the stories you told me, the love you gave me, the memories of a past we shared between a crayon box and the picture you drew of me. I’ll remember you as the girl who caught my attention trying to seek no attention at all. I’ll remember myself as the first word you spoke, and the only word I heard you say. I’ll remember you for how you carried weights on your legs to walk a little straighter and how even though it broke my heart to see you that way I smiled so you could walk a step ahead of yourself. I hope you crossed the line, I hope you can put up your words to build everything they broke, and I hope somewhere at the back of your mind, I’ll be there whispering the first “I love you” I’ve ever said.

 

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