A letter to my 1st love


So this goes for the 1st love of my life.

Dear love,
Sometimes I wish I were the comfy quilt in the chilled winter night so that you would have embraced me like you never really did. Or sometimes I wish I were the little puppy of yours that sometimes cries when it hurts and you hold her in your caressing arms, not letting her cry unlike me.

Do you remember the nights I begged you to let me sleep but you didn’t just to finish a useless conversation or the times when the precious pearls couldn’t stop themselves from coming out over the late night call? Oh, how on earth I could forget or you either the time when the knives, sadly three were there but all blunt, held my hand the way no one ever did? Or that 12 am Tuesday night when you kept on calling and bound me to receive them or the time when the first day of my period came and I was screaming in pain but all you wanted was to meet, you cared about yourself not me.

Don’t you miss the smiles, the giggles, the laughter, the pink lower lips, the bright glow of eyes, that wink, the shiny hair, that plaited one, and the innocent face of your baby?

Don’t you miss the child inside an 18 years old girl whom you turned into a frail 5 years old kid who cries because of every little thing?

Don’t you miss the girl whose lips never got tired of taking your name? Don’t you miss the girl whom you used to call with baby, babu, shona, nimona…..endless cute little names?

Sometimes I wish I would not be this much talkative then probably that “BHAIYA” would never be changed into “GADHA.” And sometimes I wish I wouldn’t have entered in your life or you in mine, life would have been much easier to live.

~From the writer whose words hate you still write of you.

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