The Night of November 7th, 1997

[ life may change, but it may fly not; Hope may vanish, but can die not; Truth be veiled, but still it burneth; Love repulsed, - but it returneth- percy bysshe shelley ]

growing up is never easy. You hold on to things that were. You wonder what's to come. But that night, I think we knew it was time to let go of what had been, and look ahead to what would be. Other days. New days. Days to come. The thing is, we didn't have to hate each other for getting older. We just had to forgive ourselves... for growing up. The fault was within us. Maybe we grew up faster since we found each other, found that elusive thing called love. Or did I think the fault was within us because that’s what the people around us made us believe? We were kids, but we were not fools.

we knew it was not puppy love, not a whim of adolescence, nor was it in anyway momentary. I would have been derided (as I was at that time) if I had voiced these thoughts then. When I look back now, the feelings, the discernment I felt then have remained unchanged. This is the first time I am putting these things to words or even voicing out to people. I know it’s confusing to the reader but that’s the way I feel, even now. How can something that has remained unchanged for 7 years labeled as flippant? Oh, how I wish I had talked to this “me”, who understands what happened then so clearly, at that time. How I wish I had someone who had the perception that went beyond the small-town Puritanism to explain it to me. Then that night would not have haunted me for all these years.

that night, when it all ended. When we decided that we will never think of each other, never meet, never talk…Just because the people around us where obscure in understanding. I don’t know if its just me who feels the same way. Has she forgotten all about the time when we were together? Sharing everything, where words where not necessary to convey thoughts. Maybe she has, then again, maybe she hasn’t.