Have you ever just completed a book by your favorite writer and read the messages of that someone special. Even if it took a million scrolls but you read it all as if it were a fiction. Sadly it all seems like fiction today. The talks that contained your true feeling that had reality now seem the fantasy of a world so distant that you can hardly imagine. People come and leave but some manage to stay and some create a space for themselves that only you can understand the importance of. He was one of them. Actually the only one. It all seems impossible from when I recall our first meeting rather argument. He shouted I listened and unknown to him I left with tears. And then nothing for months and suddenly talking for hours on facebook. I remember spending sleepless nights just talking to him about everything and nothing. About where I desire to travel to my favourtie dish. And the best part was he was an ethusiast in the convo and never let me down when I wanted to talk to him. Certainly between fighting over french and spanish secrets were reveiled. Great agonies were shared and hearts felt light. Atleast for me. And then the realisation stuck me. Adi, you aren’t the first or last. He must have shared with a ton of people and I still don’t have an answer to it. When you have almost fallen for someone you cant exactly retrace your steps back. Either you could confess or you could live on with the guilt if I would have ever tried. And heartbreakingly I chose the former. For the first few days it turned out to be dreamy. But then dreams are meant to be broken if you see them with your eyes shut. And then with lack of communication and pleanty of misunderstanding I lost what I thought was a friend. The leaves turned yellow to brown and finally landed on the ground to be crushed by the mighty fellow walking aimlessly and time flew with its own pace. Life was never back to normal after losing him and I was not anymore the cheerful and bubbly person I used to be. More or else often I was alredy annoyed and ion few moments it took the shape of anger. The cool headed girl had turned into a short tempered lass. No one could bring back the old me except him. And he was back again in my life. The silence has always advised the rise of a storm, the storm had proceeded the destruction, and this time my soul was on the verge of tearing into bits and pieces. So much had changed. A strange formality had engulfed our earlier carefree conversations and the talks seemed to be forced. As in the loaded-gun-at-your-head forced. It only tore me apart to read him talk with limited word and restricted topic. Our past relationship didn’t find a miniature of gap to find room in our conversations. But without clearing the past you can only have a blurred present and an uncertain future. I took the initiative and karma is a sweet bitch. I never actually got my answer. Today we talk, like the friends we used to be but I never could get my old friend back. We talk about everything but yet it seems confined in some formality. We talk but its like assuring ourselves that we are back to normal. Our friendship was my priced possesion and I ruined it with the weapon of love.