Dear ‘never meant to be’,
That day at the station, five years ago, I did see you - your patent plaid shirt that you insisted was ‘checks’ with your bell-bottomed jeans, sipping your ‘nth’ cutting chai. That train ticket you sent me lies nestled in one of the many books in my library as a bookmark – old, earmarked and forgotten-to-be discovered again. I still think fondly of you, and often, I thank my stars that like you, I did not board that train. I thought you loved me enough to know me well. Yes, I did think for a while that we could be together but not only were we poles apart, I’d never travel in a sleeper class.
Hope life has treated you well since.