I was your Home.

You made your home inside of me. You started slowly, placing brick by brick and fixing those bricks with cement and water. You came close, sometimes too close and sometimes; not close enough. You were there, enchanting and then you were gone. Your eyes would meet mine and for the rest of the night, I would search for my favourite pair. Then there were doors. There were tiny creaking doors and large doors with no handles and no locks. And suddenly you were everywhere. Your eyes were the only pair and your shoulder was the only one I wanted rubbing against mine. Your breath was synced with mine and your days were now ours. Your home had windows, windows that would open with no locks and windows that would stay open through the night. You’d walk in and grab by the hand and take me out for hours. We’d be by the sea one second and staring at the stars next. There was no limit to and there were no questions asked. Your home was chaotic and calm with a hint of lavender perfume in the air and a voice in my ears which always made my skin crawl and the hair on the back of my neck rise and that’s when I Knew that you should never build Homes in people because when you start slamming doors and shattering windows and painting the walls from red to blue and from blue to a pale grey, it Crumbles.

It crumbles beneath the sheer pain of abandonment and loss. It stands there on its bricks and mud trying to hold the life it contained within it, only to find that you can build Houses but sustain them with Life and only then can they become Homes.

I was Home and when you left, the doors broke off of their hinges and the ceiling crashed against the wall. There were shards of glasses everywhere. There were mirrors and frames and photographs and records and posters of your favourite 70’s rock band and that the last remnant of your most worn hoodie and your mother’s jewellery box which always had my ring. They were there but not anymore. They shattered under the agony of hearts falling apart and fates falling together and only then did I chant, “Never build homes in people, because they will burn and break and you will leave the four walls barely standing”.

You left a flight at risk without a fear of falling.


Broken Things

“You don’t understand. Please, step back. I’m actually a gigantic, walking “Warning! Hazard Ahead” Sign and you should be able to read this. I thought that you were smart enough. ”

He laughed, not like it was funny but at the absurdity of this whole situation. Two months ago, he didn’t even know who he was and now he was standing still but somehow still tumbling on his thoughts. Constantly thinking about this girl who had somehow gone on to define him.. who had cleared his fuzzy view and made him see him for himself after the longest time and this was all he had ever wanted. It came a bit early in his life but he didn’t mind it, not one bit. And now, here he was, offering everything he had and everything he would ever go on to achieve to this Beautiful Girl and she wouldn’t budge. She wouldn’t take him and end his misery.  He was getting so tired of these excuses and these lies and the little ways in which she pushed him so far away; almost as if she liked it when he was far away. But he knew better.. he wanted to be right now more than ever.

He said, “What don’t I get? That you’re fucked up? Well aren’t we all. Its always someone, the brother, the dad, the mother. There is always someone who breaks us a little on the inside and as we grow up, the breaking gets harder to fix and the cracks run deeper than the surface and there’s only so much glue and tape and pins that can hold messes together. And we grow up and older and we try to push these things away in a little corner that we often revisit, but for the most of the day, we shove them aside and kind of learn to live with the little good that we did see.” He held her by the arms, looked her in the eye and said, “It’s okay, we are all broken. I am broken too. Maybe not as much but a little bit. Now come, lets find all the broken places and touch them so we can be a part of each other’s broken memories and maybe that will make this better.”

She looked at him. These words made sense. His words make complete sense.. but she didn’t think that he deserved to witness this much sadness and darkness. ” No, but you don’t understand. It gets really dark in my head sometimes. There are times that I cry when nothing’s wrong and there are times when I lay in bed for hours thinking of the future and the past and everything in between and I am paralysed by my own thoughts and I don’t eat and I don’t sleep and it gets very dark and lonely and that’s something i don’t ever want you to have to see or go through with. This head of mine, it loses itself in a labyrinth made my itself and I am not in charge anymore and I want to make this stop but I can’t and you shouldn’t have to step in right now.

He looked at her and said, “Im ready and I want to step in. I want to touch the cracks and the scars. Take your time. Show me bit by bit, but my condition is  show me. Show me and don’t back down for an actual shot at something here. Don’t back down and if you want to talk or someone to cry with or someone to lay down with, I am your guy. “

Nothing More, but Never Quite Enough. #Excerpt2

“You talk a big talk but can you walk as big?” She smirked and asked him expecting him to be equally cocky; if not more.

He answered, knowing exactly where this was going, “How many times do I need to tell you that that I will flirt with a thousand girls and I will even smile at them in a way that will make them believe that I am the man for them and some day I will take them to a far away land with rainbows and unicorns and beautiful flowers and exotic weather, but that eventually I will wind back to this beautiful face of yours  and this enchanting laugh of yours that makes me want to say silly things all the time, only to hear the sound of that  gurgling laughter of yours over and over again. That when I’m with you all I can think of what about you shall I be able to take in today? What about you will I go home and recall because it is all too overwhelming, Your smile, your eyes, your lips, your hands.. they are all a little too much for one person to hold. And all I’m really doing is trying to pass away the time that I have on my hands before it is finally time for Us.”

She laughed out loud, knowing where this conversation was leading, precisely where it led to all the time. But somewhere deep down but paradoxically quite on the surface, she felt a little hope surging through. Even though she knew all of his mind tricks and his mantra’s and his cute little smirk and that face he had when he was mid smiling and laughing and his ‘I need to ruffle my hair every five seconds because the human race will seize to exist if I don’t,’ she knew that there was something about them.. about her that made him want to be more than just the person he was and the things he always kept saying held some meaning… At least she wanted to believe that they did. She wanted to hold on to every word and wanted to think of the little things that happened during the time that he was speaking. The way his nose twitched or the way that his hair looked extra brown this evening or the fact that his voice had seemed quite sincere for the first time this evening. She wanted to believe more than anything that this was real and some day they would stop laughing at this and actually look each other in the eyes and say all these things with all the meaning that they held. She desperately wanted to believe that there was some truth to all this.

She looked up at him and saw him staring right back at her. She looked, really hard and searched for the truth. She wanted him to say this to her over and over again. She wanted to say all the things that she had been mashing down. All the feelings that had been brimming for so long but all she could say was, “So basically, I’m on a waiting list, precisely on the END of the waiting list. Gee, thanks.”

He started laughing, really shaking and laughing, so whole heartedly that she couldn’t help but laugh with him and they laughed as loud and as manically as they always did. They laughed at the regular occurrence of this conversation and how every time, it took a new turn and a few layers were peeled back, but never all of them. And maybe they laughed to numb the pain that they both felt every time they talked about this, and how neither one of them was brave enough to say the truth.

And somewhere, in between the laughing and the commenting.. there was a brief moment of truth where he held on to her hand; sudden and fast and he squeezed tight, as if trying to assure her that he would come back for her, over and over again.

And just like that the moment passed and they were back to being best friends again, nothing more.. and never quite enough.