|Picture courtesy: Google Images. Picture used only for an editorial purpose. The copyright of the image lies with the actual artist.|
Dear love of my life,
I still remember our very first meeting – your tear-stained cheeks and your vomit-soaked frilly frock in Kindergarten day 1. You had cried your eyes out. It was only later when I offered my extra biscuit to you that you started talking to me. Our friendship was based on food, sharing crayons and innocent hand-holding during PT class.
Over the years, our love for food turned into crazy experiments, and we even burnt a part of your mum’s kitchen. Even your folks had come to accept me as a permanent fixture in your life as we began and ended our days together. From kindergarten to school and then to high school, our friendship evolved. Your empty threats of making me your rakhi brother never failed to freak me out.
I wanted more than friendship. And the year we turned 17, I thought we were ready for the transition. I only wish I had never let you go on that camping trip with your girlfriends. I should have never let you break our deal of trying rafting together. And then you drowned… only you.
P.s. I wish I had confessed my feelings to you sooner. Even after 15 years, nothing has changed. It still hurts the same.