Letters to no-one in particular.

#1.

 It would seem rather silly that I'm writing a letter to you.I don't have a memory of writing a letter ever
except the last question in the English paper which started with "hope you are in the pink of health" and ended with "Give my love to so and so".It all seemed so frivolous.A choreographed show put up for someone who cares about us as much as we care about the person we were writing to.And then we are scored on the basis of following the right syntax because when your friend's father has died he might me extremely offended that your paragraph is too long in your condolence letter.Meh :/

     Yes now I'm going to change the paragraph because I want to.Letter writing is highly underrated.Why you ask am I writing a letter to you in a world that knows no other way than texting?

Texting I feel is more about talking than conversing,telling rather than sharing.This feels so much more intimate,like a secret we share.As I write this I feel like I'm being truthful to you and myself because I am being myself.I haven't been that in a long time.Here I'm not bound by space and time nor am i expected to write lyk dis or put in smileys that will forever fail to portray what I feel.I feel completely at ease and excited because the idea of writing a letter seems so forbidden and romantic.The pen in my hand moves freely,uninhibited.Suddenly it is free from the clutches of the need to impress or rhyme or use vocabulary recently acquired from P.G.Wodehouse's books.I am writing to you simply because I want you to know me and there's no other way you will.

           I'm a girl who finds solace in books.Solace from what you ask.I'm not sure yet.Books are never just books..It is a journey I undertake.A silent spectator in an otherwise unfamiliar world.I can be whoever I want to be in a story and in the process be more of me than I have ever been.I feel happy,sad,intrigued,excited embarrassed even, on behalf of the characters.It is however not my place to judge.Some characters I love,some I respect and some I'd rather not meet in real life.But I never give up on them.Its just not what I do.I feel privileged to have been a part of their journey.When I close the book I feel like I've been let in on a secret and the book has been let in on one too.It takes with it my smiles and tears and creates a wonderful intimate bond between us.

   But I can say goodbye when I need to,detach myself from something that was never mine.I don't live in the hope that something extraordinary will happen to me because life is extraordinary enough.I believe in magic;I believe in love.I am a believer by nature.A believer beyond logic or reason.

I'm simple and complicated at once and I don't know who I am.And I don't want to know.Because what is life without a dash of mystery?I refuse to think in black and white.Sometimes after I read a book I need to cry,take my time and then return to reality.I don't need anyone to comfort me or fix me.I need to get over it myself taking my own time and space.

   And it at times I phase out and seem distant,impossible to comprehend,you should know you are as clueless as I am.

                                                                                                                More later.

#2

Every songwriter seems to be betraying my story.Love,I have come to believe is  an elaborate form of self harm.Every song gives my heartbeats a voice..my heartbeats something so familiar yet foreign suddenly developing a mind of their own because I don't seem to be having any control over them whatsoever .Is it supposed to be so hard?

   You put a smile for the world but it doesn't quite reach your eyes..eyes playing vigilante,protecting the secrets which are threatening to let go.You're left with a constant heartache.;a dull thud in the chest. your heart acting like a small kid who wants ,wants and wants and never seems to get enough.I'm not sure if I'm looking for you or for myself or if they are one and the same.Your presence seems to complete me and your absence fills me with a void.is that how love works?

      My fingers trace lines on the map..lines that join you and me,a journey my mind undertakes on a oneway ticket.I wish you were here.You and me in a bubble of our own..journeying without a care, fighting the winds.You are the voice in my head..a voice that drowns out the din of my own thoughts.I want to be brave but the distance seems intimidating..a journey of endless roads and precarious turns.i'm not afraid to make that journey ..i'm afraid to find a chasm because i've given you too much to go back.I won't make it.

        I wait and wait.I know no other way.The heart hopes against all hope that you'll be back.You'll be here like you said you would.You'll bring with you my smile and peace of mind and threaten those tears away.You'll have a perfectly valid reason for the delay.You'll say my name like a prayer,apologise and mean it and we'll go find our rainbow.

   You'll come I tell them.We have unfinished business,unfulfilled promises and plans of eternity I tell them.My voice however seems to tremble more with every passing day,the words a bleak attempt to convince myself more than anyone.My life has merged and blended with yours like the colours in the sky,now impossible to separate.I love you and I know no other way than this.

             Its been 10years.You said you'll come and I promised you I'll wait.A promise more of a subconscious decision taken without consulting my mind.A promise that has become my way of living,my challenge to life and my mind's personal vendetta.

         The heart wants what the heart wants.And it wants you.Give me my forever even if it lasts for a second.

                                                                                                                               Your's forever.