Many a times I wish I could disintegrate you to naught. Not for the person you are, but for the hurt and pain i’ve felt with your constant disappearance, after every brief and swift appearance. To be precise, it is our past happiness that i long to erase; to complete forget. The blissful friendship we once had is the source of my regular upsets. The kind of torment memories bring; the ironic way it makes a sustainable memory seem more painful than suffering from amnesia.
Every once in a while i think about you, I replay our memories so fondly. The way we had each other’s back, the we-could-share-anything-and-everything, the oath to an eternal friendship, the daydream of being each other’s bridesmaid. These memories died; we died. The “eternal” we once talked about dispersed with each conclusive reply on whatsapp. The desires and dreams we so involvedly built, fell apart beneath the unstable concretes.
More often than not, my finger freezes above the “send” button on whatsapp, with my eyes scrolling through the multiple “Hi”s and short greetings that i composed in the text box. My courage (or dis-courage to be exact) deters me. The fear of having to be treated like a friend, than treated like none, again, restrains me. How foolish i would be to ignore my fears and expose my vulnerable soul to you.
How tiring it is, i tell myself. How tired I already am. To be a “friend” you could turn to, only when your other half is not with you. It’s a game of catching that i’m running out of breath for. The hill we (or you) are playing on, it is made up of steep slopes and uneven roads; a hill I dare not climb, a path I’d rather not proceed with.
It’s a pity, to some extent, that there was a deadline for our friendship. But it’s for the better of me, for what i’ve been through. Selfish on my part, or so it seems, but this is what you have made me to be.
And just sometimes, i wish you knew the truth behind the person you think to be your Everything. How i wish i had the chance to let it all out, to tell you everything. But then again, I’ve no right to judge. I’ve no right to say anything. You seem happy with how things have turned out. And what i know might not actually be what it really is, something you’ve taught me over the years.
And for the last time, probably, Happy Birthday.