I stopped to look at the calendar before grabbing my stuff and heading out. 30 June’17, the last day of June. June has always been my happy month; my month of life. June symbolises warmth and love and gifts and long drives and birthday lunches. This is the month of laughter, of sunlit fields brimming with flowers, of strawberries and impromptu trips to the snowy hills. Lately, everything has been changing over like the new colors of bud after spring. June has lost its charm and life has lost its meaning. I’m leaving my city, my home, my ownself. I’m leaving my June behind.
Have you ever picked up a withered flower and wished with all your heart to witness it blooming again?
To once again be a silent spectator of its mesmerising youth?
Have you ever plodded down a busy road, bustling with nothing but unfounded nostalgia?
To relive it all again and see everything burning in your eyes?
Have you walked away from life through a closed door, only to be led back to your ownself?
Have you? I prod, rather intrusively.
Have you loved someone so much that all your senses slow slip away from grasp and you stand back, smiling widely at its departure.
The advent of morning sunshine in the small vicinity of my room forces me to shake off the midnight dreams away. I slowly open my eyes to the mellow chirping of birds perched outside the gated window. Turning lazily in the queen sized bed, a dazed me find the silhouette of a man entangled partially in the crisp white sheets. I have slept with the same person over the last ten years, and yet I do not recognise him. His chestnut brown hair hide most of his features from sight but one can still trace the outline of his plump, slightly brown lips peeking from beneath the cracks. I have kissed the same lips over the past ten years, and yet this morning I do not recognise them. Our whole story seems like a late afternoon dream now, we have come so far in life together without realising that time has been drifting us apart slowly and we have merely been reduced to ephemeral characters in each others stories. I still remember the first time we met, young and madly in love with life. With time, I guess our love for life was replaced with love for our own selves and we moved on ahead, only away from each other. The sands of time have filled our lungs so intensely that this change in our lives was not conspicuous, until this morning when the morning mist suddenly made me aware of your metamorphosis and how the same locks that my hands couldn’t get enough of are now just an ugly mess that fills me with disgust. What happened to us? Why do all the happy memories suddenly engulf me in guilt? Where did we get lost? Our conversations have dwindled away, no affection, no adoration, just monosyllabic words. No matter where we turn to, all there are are just concrete barriers.
My thoughts are clouded with regret, hoping that all of this is just a bad dream from which I wake up to my eighteen year self again. To go back and live a different life, something completely disparate from this.
I have started dreading your presence these days, even your scent fills me with morose. We have no clue as to what is happening in each other’s lives. You have shut yourself in a mundane shell and I’m tired of knocking at it with enthusiasm.
You shift slightly in your sleep and my heart is filled with sadness. Suddenly a pair of puffy grey eyes stare at me blankly, devoid of any feelings and it dawns on me that our love has faded away, we both are tired of each other and how effortlessly have we managed to disregard each others company. Your eyes convey all their hidden desires to me, you want this to end more than me. You can read my thoughts, because your eyes reflect the same tragedy as me, begging for an escape.
We talked of stars and now our love has exploded the galaxes inside us.