Her

Sitting in the back of a cab with a split open heart
You look for a tiny dot in the starlit sky
But it’s quite hard to focus with tear-filled eyes, isn’t it?
You make homes out of people, not places
But all that remains of them now are a few songs and starred messages that you keep rereading because you need to feel something, anything.
Those college halls have been witness to the laughter that used to spill out of you like water from an overflowing cup
But now it’s all silent and they seem emptier somehow.
The canteen dosa you used to love has lost its flavour
And you try not to linger in the busy lovers’ lane for a picture, or a cup of chai.
People say it’s tough to say goodbye
But you, you know that’s not true.
Saying goodbye was as easy as popping a pimple that had been bothering you for a week
You hated it and how it made you look and now your face is bloody, but at least it’s gone, and you are relieved.
But the scar it leaves behind is what haunts you now, and you begin to wonder if you should’ve just let it be
But it’s too late for that now.
So you put on some concealer and go about your day
But you still get the urge to scratch the surface anyway
Saying goodbye was the easiest part
It’s what came after that’s breaking your heart.
You search for welcoming smiles in a maddening crowd
Knowing that the storm is coming doesn’t make the thunder less loud
You’re losing your way because you refuse to see, you’re still hung up on the way she made you believe.
She reminded you of a sweet summer day peppered with rain and her absence is like standing outside in an endless shower
But you let it consume you because she hated the water and maybe drowning is better than the heartbreak that brought her.
The ring she gave you seems stuck on your finger and it chokes you a little bit so you put it inside, never to wear again.
Then there’s the photographs you know would look great on your instagram feed, but it’s too late to put them up now
The smiles captured in them have withered away
The people have lost the love frozen in it.
And now there’s a folder in your phone that you label as ‘X’ and put at the bottom of the list because it hurts too much to look at every moment that made you happier than you’ve ever been
Four months of pure joy and now, nothing.
And loneliness hits you like a ton of bricks at 4 am when you realise you haven’t talked to a friend in days
The people you now hang out with are probably not interested in you
You’ve been living in a distraction
And it was bound to wear off soon.
You’ve started feeling like a stranger in other familiar places now and it’s terrifying because that is how it started the first time and you just can’t lose another home, not again, not so soon.
But you still look for different places to spend the night and it’s peaceful but you know you don’t belong, it’s not yours
You know it isn’t, but you go anyway
A tired traveller will take whatever shelter they can find.
Some nights a concert, some nights a play
And some days the earphones you share with the new guy just to feel okay
But then he too, gets up to leave and the weight on your shoulders is so heavy
You try to hold on because you’re just not ready, but now you know that it’s far too easy to leave.
And now you start to miss the boy with the bright flowers who used to smile at you through the screen
Who showed you oceans and castles and stars and reminded you of the greatness of the universe
Who told you it would all be okay one day and you believed him because you were so in love.
Now you just miss the way he made you feel alive.
You start to dream of him again and you can’t take it because you keep losing people and the pain is too much this time.
So you go back home and you write stories about a girl with bright eyes who could never stop laughing or loving or living, hoping some of that happiness will bleed through the pages and mix with the blood in your veins.
You just want to feel again.

Alisha Mehndiratta