Of Fears, Hopes, Maybes and Oblivion

I wonder what became of me. What became of me in your world? In your mind. Do I still exist? Do I live on in your heart as you said I would? Or have I died? Gone. Buried somewhere so deep that you yourself don’t even know of. I will always love you had said. That I will always be yours. I belong to you. My heart and my soul are yours. It doesn’t matter who gets my body. I will be a piece of flesh for him.

Now I reminisce back and look at it as if looking through a very dusty window. The dust of time. It seems surreal and blurry. All of it. Like a dream of which you remember a few flashes. The words have dimmed and your voice has fainted, lost somewhere in the alleys of time. I have your letters and words. Your promises and vows and the tokens of our love. I have your bracelet with our initials engraved. But now the color has faded and the scent has flown away somewhere far.

You didn’t leave any signs. No hints. Nothing. And probably for the greater good. You don’t go opening closed chapters. Once they are closed they should be closed for good. So there are no signs and no hints that give me the reassurance.

So here it is. The fear that has haunted me. The fear of oblivion. That maybe you forgot. Maybe it was that easy for you. To let go of it in a moment? To move on after you had cried your part? But that is even more difficult to believe. I can’t blame you though. What other option did you have? Holding on only hurts and I had seen how much the memories were hurting you. So maybe you had to do it. Close your heart, just harden it, put up a stern face, hold back your tears, manage a smile and move on. You were strong. You always were. Much stronger than I am. And you were patient. So patient that I call it the patience of a saint now. Maybe it was easy for you, to bear it without showing it. You had the enviable quality of keeping it inside. Keeping things to yourself as you said. You never used to express how much it hurt.  I admired you back then and I admire you still for it.

I don’t know maybe that is what you did. I would never know your side of the story? But that is what hurts most.

How did you cope? Did you miss me like I did? Did you feel the same emptiness gnawing on you? Did you go to sleep with your pillow very wet? Did you want to call my name when you were alone? Did you think me of when you woke up? How long was the ordeal? Did you find yourself breaking in the day? Did they ever found you with teary eyes? How was it? The time after me I would like to know.

But then I think that maybe I am better off without this piece of information. Let it be a mystery. A secret I will never know. There is bliss in ignorance they say and I now know what they mean. There is bliss in not knowing and maybe I am good this way. I am afraid of asking the truth. What if my doubts were true? What if actually I had died? And died a pretty long time ago? Then? No. I can’t think on those lines. It will shatter me. That is one thing I hold to: your love. I can’t see it going to waste like this. No.

It feels blasphemous though. To actually think that you have forgotten. What would you think if you found out that I thought like this about you? About your feelings and passion? That I doubted it. I doubted you. It would hurt you. Of course it would. And disappoint you. That I lost faith. I lost faith in you. In us. In our love. In everything we had. And how easily I did that. All your words and your promises. All the things that you said and I believed them. How easily they blurred and dimmed? How they became so faint that now it’s hard to believe they happened once. I know you won’t like it. How easily I forgot it all. But then what other choice did I have? What did holding on give? It hurt too much that I found refuge in letting it not matter.

So for now I console myself by thinking that I live in your heart. That you think of me sometimes. That maybe something trivial reminds you of me. That you are still in love with that smile. That you still sometimes look at my photos and kiss them. That you live a bit more when you see me smiling in them. (I hope you still have them). That you send your love through the icy winds across the oceans. I like to think about it in this way.

I know you remember and fondly cherish. I know I live on. And I don’t want anyone to tell me otherwise. For if that’s the case then I am happy to be living in a fool’s paradise. Im happy to be deluded. I am happy living in my world of maybe false hope and fanciful assumptions. For now sweetheart, I am good this way.

All my love.

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