The letter.

Probably my last letter to the guy I loved, and keep loving back again and again...

I'm sorry for starting this love story in the first place. I know it is me. Falling in love with you happened in a jiffy. I was swept off my feet into the air, to a place where is felt so nice, so comfortable, with you.

I left no stone unturned to make you fall in love with me. You did. Deeply, madly. I was on cloud nine, all the time. You made me feel, like how they say it feels being fallen in love with one person who is your best friend, boy-friend and soulmate.

We've been funny together. Crazy as well. Singing patriotic songs on Republic and Independence days, in the middle of the night, on top of our voices- over phone. It never felt you lived some 1500 Kms away.

 Always being there, by my side, whenever I closed my eyes.

I totally loved it, when after a crazy (which was usual) conversation, I used to disconnect your call, and would find envious-looking roommates staring at me, smiling. They were so jealous. You know who they are, I have told you about that. I tell you everything, no? Oh, I mean, used to tell you everything, then!

Then one fine lucky morning, I met you. Held your hand, like how we used to imagine. I skipped a beat then. I still remember that feeling of that missed heartbeat, of looking into your eyes for real, of being nervous and excited at the same time. The mesmerizing moment amidst love and reality.

The little things you did for me. I still remember how you stopped the coffee-waala to add extra sugar. I felt so touched that you remember that little conversation we had about how I don't like too much of sugar in my coffee. You kept everything in your mind. I had never received so much love before, I swear. Not even after!

It was almost two-and-a-half years. No fights. Just crazy love. I don't know what happened suddenly. Why did we drift apart? Why did we let misunderstanding and miscommunication come in between? Why did we lose each other?

We broke up. I was shattered. Even-though it was I who decided to move on, I just wanted to run into your arms and cry my heart out and make things right every night.

With moving on, came distractions.

My stubborn self was fighting with the madly-in-love-with-you self!

Mistakes piled up. With that, guilt too. Guilt, for letting myself do things I would have never done. Not even out of curiosity.

My stubborn self kept winning and I kept pushing myself away from you, deliberately, desperately.

Even now, after almost a year of our breakup, I keep making excuses in the head to run back to you. Make things right. I know, you are dying to be with me too. I'm not letting you be.

Darling, I'm afraid, all that is left in me is guilt- guilt of wrong decisions, broken feelings for trusting and trying to love again and a different person, who is definitely not me. How do I come back to you? Why, I say? You stood there, the place I left you, waiting for my return. I kept moving, without turning my back for even once. And, now that I'm lost and morose, I feel the need to be with you. How much more selfish can I be?

Last time I came running back to you when I was shattered, you held my hand as lovingly as you always did. I left you crying, again. Blaming the distance, for our differences. I hid my failures behind those blames. I have fallen, fallen to a level where I shouldn't be loved anymore.

Finding you in someone else, I have been cheating all. Living in denial. Denying that it has been and will be, just you. No other. However, here, tonight, below this lonely moon who has no stars for company, I feel lost again. Wanting to be found by you, one more time. Alas!

You know already, maybe. You still care to talk. That if you come back, I will again try to break the bubble and escape, only to find myself lost and crying out loud to find you somehow, again. It will repeat, I guess. I'm destined to live this life now. Of denial, helplessness and agony.

With hope and longingness of being in your arms again!

Yours forever

Love