Some people
come into your life, not just as a lesson that life is trying to teach you or
as someone who’s here to make you feel that you belong but as a cold breeze in
a summer afternoon and warm sunlight on a winter morning, not to be touched or
held or even to stay but just to make you feel good enough so you keep on
living with hope.
And the problem with that is we, humans have not yet learned the art of letting go, I don’t consider myself above you, I’m no different than you, I’m no better.
I still
search for her smile in crowds, my best joke will not be funny if she’s not the
one laughing, I can never look at another human being without trying to find
her in them even though I know that she was once in a blue moon kind.
I don’t just
miss her when I’m looking at her picture in my wallet or when I order her favorite
drink in cafeteria out of habit or when I see her talking to somebody else who’s
not even worthy or breathing the same air as hers but
I miss the
god who used to see me in prostration while I prayed for her happiness with tears
in my eyes, I miss the moon, which listened
silently as I unraveled every thread of
our conversations into the night air. I miss the person I was when she stood
beside me—a man who carried the courage to conquer the world if she willed it
and the humility to fall to his knees if her tears ever fell.
that’s what
being loved feels like, I know all of it was because of her because now I can
see the same courage in someone else’s eyes even though I don’t know if he has the same
humility in his heart.
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