‘I’m sorry,’ he hears himself say, years later
‘It’s okay,’ he
hears, ‘you don’t need to’
‘I know. But you deserve to hear one
And I need to say one, so might as well…’
I suppose in the end, the whole of life
becomes an act of letting go
But what hurts the most
is not taking a moment to say goodbye
Would I like to go back to her?
I guess that’s not possible anymore
She is a different person now
the girl I left behind, doesn’t exist anymore
And I think to myself
How is that different from finding
someone else’s bookmark
from someone else’s book?
Someone, who craves that hug as much
albeit, not because I am her missing piece
But missing pieces nonetheless she has
broken off from another story, not unlike mine
We might not fit perfectly together like a puzzle
or maybe we will
or maybe we will collide into each other like continents
giving rise to mountains
I have lost my bookmark
and found someone one’s
years later, when all is forgotten
does it make a difference what I find?
Vishal Gupta
July 15th, 2022
