Letters to Love

Dear love,


Would you still remember my birthday like you remember that of your girl best friends’, if I didn’t take you out shopping just days before my birthday, with so many excuses? Would you still remember our anniversary if I didn’t make my friend deliberately slip her tongue just a day before? Would you still remember to visit my parents every time they come in our town if I stopped mentioning how much they adore you? Would you still let me go out with my male friend if I didn’t keep reminding you of our distances time and again?


Would you still cook if I didn’t keep eating the terribly cooked food without a word? Wouldn’t you come and kiss me goodnight in the middle of your match? Wouldn’t you feel sorry for bursting out your anger on me for no apparent reason? Wouldn’t you let me know if you are to spend the night out? Wouldn’t you pick the pieces of shattered glass that broke while you hurried to leave for office?


Would the little things still matter like they did back when we were like two young birds in love? When nothing mattered more than the shells I picked while walking on the beach, or the imperfect yet perfectly crafted handmade cards you gave to me on my birthdays, or a soothing ice-cream after hours of our endless chatter.


“If you get closer to someone more than you should, you drift away more than you can bear”, they say. Is that what happened to us? Is it because we talked day and night and kept in mind all the minute details, that we now barely talk the random chatter and observe the least about each other? Or is it because we gave too much attention to each other while being teens that now we can’t really get our minds off our daily works? Tell me it’s not because we enjoyed our carefree days so much that we now stay serious most of the times!


Uncontrollable laughter has turned to made-up smiles, everyday walks have turned to monthly drives, happy, chirping meals have become long lost memories. Seems like growing up got the better of us.


I wonder at times if you still notice that I got myself a different haircut, that I now fit perfectly into that once undersized black dress, that I changed the arrangement of our room. I wonder if you realize that we’re growing old and in a decade or two, all we’d be left with would be each other and this house. We don’t need money to fill this house with memories, we need time and moments to make memories.


So, I take this moment to say that I still love you with all the madness within me, that the smell of your cologne still sends chills down my spine, that my heart still skips a beat when I lay my eyes on your broad jawline, that I still feel butterflies flutter when I see your face after I wake up in the morning, that the crazy bike rides and the long silent walks are still afresh in my memories.


Tell me love, how did we grow apart? How did we not remind ourselves of the promise we did to each other that we’ll always be the same? How did we forget to appreciate the little things? Tell me love, how did we come to this? How?






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