I think the biggest blow of life to come is how little I'll be seeing of the pinafore. I had never really thought about life after school - with or without her - till it finally came to be that I was out of school and living life without her. Even then, I just missed her and left it at that. I didn't think about college too much till now (at the last minute, as always). If only I was as efficient as that piece of clothing, maybe could have roomed together and lived out my idealest of college ideals; At the same time, considering the efficiency with which we've done research and applications, we probably do belong in different colleges. We will split, and like the nuclei of atoms, something will go boom when we do.
When we sat together that fateful day (out of sheer desperation for a familiar face), I didn't think that five years later I'd be lying about at one in the morning, writing these cheesy bloody declarations of undying love.
I also didn't think that after school, I'd miss geography classes the most, but I do - stifling laughter as we hid from URK's view, her eyes narrowed and searching, as Karthik Swaroop droned on, reading from that godforsaken textbook. I miss talking about my various theories about life - everything just gets stockpiled in my head now. You were like a pensieve, you magical thing.
I miss glancing at you occasionally, only to see your staring out of the window; I'd catch your eye and we'd smile. I miss laughing at our stupid not-even-jokes.
I miss a lot of things and I dread how much longer I'm going to have to wait till we can be roommates. I look forward to that day - when you're forty with no sex life, and I am finally ready to move to England. Till then, I'll settle for annoying you over the phone and giggling at stupid things whenever I see you.
You're like a star I might stare at contentedly in the sky - pretty and bright and twinkling - like Polaris, a constant; like Sirius to my Remus. You fill me with nostalgia and excitement and satisfaction and a desire to be.
And Despite all of the foreboding and the missing, I am still so, so happy you exist.
For the world is nothing Vibha-less.
When we sat together that fateful day (out of sheer desperation for a familiar face), I didn't think that five years later I'd be lying about at one in the morning, writing these cheesy bloody declarations of undying love.
I also didn't think that after school, I'd miss geography classes the most, but I do - stifling laughter as we hid from URK's view, her eyes narrowed and searching, as Karthik Swaroop droned on, reading from that godforsaken textbook. I miss talking about my various theories about life - everything just gets stockpiled in my head now. You were like a pensieve, you magical thing.
I miss glancing at you occasionally, only to see your staring out of the window; I'd catch your eye and we'd smile. I miss laughing at our stupid not-even-jokes.
I miss a lot of things and I dread how much longer I'm going to have to wait till we can be roommates. I look forward to that day - when you're forty with no sex life, and I am finally ready to move to England. Till then, I'll settle for annoying you over the phone and giggling at stupid things whenever I see you.
You're like a star I might stare at contentedly in the sky - pretty and bright and twinkling - like Polaris, a constant; like Sirius to my Remus. You fill me with nostalgia and excitement and satisfaction and a desire to be.
And Despite all of the foreboding and the missing, I am still so, so happy you exist.
For the world is nothing Vibha-less.
grateful for you
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