Saudade

I wonder where you are now. I wonder what you are doing, whether you think of me at odd moments, as I do of you.

I know it is over. We never said so, but we both know it. Even so, there is a part of me that keeps wishing for what we had. You went away, moved on to other things. I try to do the same, to move on.

Yesterday, as I walked the same path we walked together two years ago, I thought of you. Those puppies I petted that day are full-grown dogs now. I remember how you looked on indulgently, holding my bags so I could cope with their exuberance better. I remember what you said then. Perhaps you didn't mean it. Do you remember, even?

All that remains to me now is this wistfulness, a hope that you will come back someday, if only for a short while. You'd go away again, I know, and I will revisit this very same longing all over again. Perhaps it is for the best then, that you won't come back.

When you sang for me, when you sketched for me, when your world revolved round me, when you were there – I never realised what a precious thing I had. I took it for granted, as my just dues. I thought it would be the same, always.

You grew away from me. I wrote a flippant note, remember? Jaayiye, aap kahaan jaayenge? Well, now I know.

You are in this the same world, the same country, even. But you could be on another planet. You are lost to me. With love and much regret I write to you,

Perdita