Changing Tints

I will never admit it in the morning hours while reading the newspaper. The global news, particularly my favourite section, makes my eyes search for the place you went to. It's not because I miss you per se, but because a small part of me will always wish good things for you. With every mass shooting taking place as I read, my breath slows to read. I hope it's not an Indian student who died. How can I say I loved you at that time without wishing all your goals to be achieved even now? Even if we can no longer talk, the stars hear the whisper of my wish and take the secret to the next night. In my naive belief of what love could be, I know that the core remains the same: loving or liking someone enough to wish them the pleasures of their completed dreams, despite how it turns out. And how can I not? Listening to your goals at 2 a.m. at night and seeing the shine in your eyes was once my favourite part of the day. To know your scars and how you became you—the raw intimacy necessary. It is okay to never talk to you. I will always carry a part of those months in my heart.    Most human relationships don't last, but their footprints stay. The more you look into yourself, the more you see the mosaic of people long gone. The mosaic in me of you would be the screaming music, the obsession with the gym, and my own discoveries about myself. One of my favourite parts of me came along with you by my side. It was fun to infuriate you with the most senseless things and ideas. The ordeal of finding and showing later turns out to be interwoven into my personality, which I love. I think there is no such thing as the right person at the wrong time or the wrong person at the right time. The universe made you come into my life for a reason and looking back, it fits. You inspired my indifferent yet desperate character. I learned more about myself than I could ever about you. The pain of heartbreak never feels justified until a long time after when you think, "It is what it is." Everyone wishes for people to stay, and why won't they?   After getting healed yet broken again due to other reasons, I know more about myself. Your loss was a necessity, and I have a story to share. In sharing this story, I have lost count of how many people have told me theirs in exchange. How people bonded with me over the heartbreaks. It was like your loss branched to form new leaves and flowers in my life. I never saw all this during our time or immediately after. But I know that the year is passing. Our chapter is marked with pigeon feathers, containing our past personalities and leftover information. Most details of us are long forgotten. I still cherish the phases that made the essence of our conversation. The sparrow, pigeon, and goose will likely never lose their place in my heart. Also, the name of your favourite car after that disappointment at never remembering them. I did promise never to forget, and here we are. It was the Nissan G34 and GTR, right? There was one more that stuck on the tip of my tongue. It just doesn't seem to get out. I knew I was okay when your memories were no longer blue but orange-tinted, with a slight smile on those foolish actions. We were not the best part of the storybook of my life, but I will forever fold the corners of the pages of my cherished chapter.