Homesick

I feel homesick for you. I don't want to tell you this because I'm afraid you will call it emotional dependency. That you will not feel the same way. 


I have felt this way since yesterday, the moment you left my nani's home and went back to your own. This ache in my heart that I felt only twice before: the first two times my parents left me at a boarding school in the hills which would become a gated hell in the years to follow. 


I lie. If it was a hell, then I felt it everytime. I learnt to numb the pain


I don't want to numb it this time. 


Is this what love feels like? Finding home in another? Feeling it in their laugh and the way you touch me like I'm perfection. You wrote it in words. You called me perfect. Ink has touched me so deeply and i can see it taking the form of your scrawl which I saw for the first time with those words. "You're perfect. "


What a way to be introduced to the hand writing i want to see for the years to come. On post it notes and bank documents and wedding registries. But i know that it probably won't happen. 


You go back home soon, hundreds of kilometers away, and you take home with you. I am afraid we will not have enough time. You were wrong when you thought that I had not accepted that we aren't forever. 


I don't know that for certain but from what I know of present circumstances and the future, it seems that the end of our forever comes sooner than the year I thought we had. I thought we would have a filmy moment where I would gatecrash the goodbye you would say to your family before you left this country for another for two years, maybe more, most probably more. I thought I was give some emotional speech and beg you to take me with you. I thought we would have time.


But you have already booked the train tickets for kolkata this October and I don't know what to do with this ache in my chest. I don't know. I don't know. 


I thought we would have forever in a year. Do it all. Live together, build a life together, and be the crazy kids the boomers would talk about. I thought we would have forever. 


And here I am, sitting in the bed we made love in for the first time, we fell asleep together in for the first time and all I can think of is having you in my arms again. Tear streaked, snot faced, quivering, broken breath. 


You called me perfect. And I am afraid I will no longer be that for you, if I confess this. 


This is the first time in a decade I have cried longer than 30 seconds. Over you. I don't want you to be responsible for this because you aren't. I can't help the way I feel. I can't help it if I'm an emotionally dependent fool. I've always been a fool, no matter what I pretend to be. I've no mind for money or intelligence, I sometimes sqaunder them. I wait for you. I wait for you. 


I won't do the filmy emotional speech at the airport because most probably I won't be there. We will have said goodbye in private beforehand, and broken up. I would have cried and cried as I watched the seconds tick away as your flight got closer, your train trip got closer, the minute you rode away from me got closer. I talk about the future as if it has already happened, what an idiot.


I can't help the way I love. Because i love you. I love you so much it makes my head ache and my heart long for a home I know I don't have much time with. I never do. 


Home has always been a distant dream for me. I have never stayed in the same place for too long for a decade. And yet. 


I was travelling all through this summer. 10 cities in two months. More to come. And in each one, each moment, I thought about what you would say. How you would experience the world with me. It became something I made a part of my day, because I felt that you were with me. I felt your love everywhere. Home became everywhere. 


As long as you are with me. 


Some seconds I wish you were here for the tears and the pain. Most of them I don't. There can be no guilt-tripping in this relationship, and pain is the biggest one. Especially of the ones you love. Maybe you'll see this. Maybe you won't. Maybe two decades down the line you'll hear of it for the first time, reading it from a book with my name on cover or from a crackling voice on a microphone at an obscure open mic in a nowhere town. Just know that whatever the future holds, however long our forever is, 


I love you,


Always and forever 


P.S.

I wrote this at 2 am so the timeline is a little off. I still wrote this shit from my heart, and you need to respect that ok?! You adorable doofus. I love you. I love the fuck out of you. Be gentle with me ok? I mean well and am crazy sometimes. 


Love, 

Aryaman aka Perfect


P.P.S

The scent of summer, you said. Gifting me a candle of Citronella, calling it the scent of summer and you said it reminded you of the summer you met me, and that you hope that it does the same for me. You poetic fucker. How dare you be more romantic than me. In my own house?? The audacity. 


No summer will go by where I will not take out your blue coloured note and trace my ever aging hand across it's surface. Hoping I could touch your hand that wrote on it. Hold it. Keep it next to my heart. No summer will go by without crying ever again. 

For D., the love of my life.

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