Day 15 — the person you miss the most
To: The only one who has ever had pink hair, eats half-boiled egg with half a bottle of soy sauce and smuggled a samurai knife to school
Subject: There’s not a day that passes by where I don’t think about you.
I am going to break a rule this time and mention your name.
I don’t know where you are.
I don’t know what you are doing.
I don’t know how it is that you - the one who raised me up from the depths of despair and ruin, the one who stood by me all these years and was ready to fling a fist at any jerk who so much as threw a glance at me, the one who was always a phone call away - I don’t know how it is that you have gone away.
There are many things in life I cannot fathom. But this is the one thing that bothers me all the time.
I used to know everything you were doing and all that you were up to. I used to not be able to begin my day without a phone call from you screaming at me to get up, we’re late, it’s time for Macdonalds breakfast and why the hell am I eating so much (but you would order just as much food as me anyway). I used to sit with you patiently while you smoked through about ten cigarettes, puffing them slowly. Biding your time before you actually began telling me what was bugging you.
Our lives were so much in-sync weren’t they. Even at school, people said we looked alike. I borrowed your ID once to sneak into a club because you were of age by then and I wasn’t. I remember. I remember everything you’ve done for me and every tear you’ve shed. I remember all the times we swam at your condo pool. I remember all your ex-girlfriends and how each of them has hurt you… and every time you told me about them I remember how you would laugh, a bittersweet laugh which comprised of so much hurt and wistfulness, yet beneath that there was relief that at least I was there to laugh it off with you.
I remember that you were always not afraid to laugh at yourself. I loved that about you.
I remember what I loved, and what I still love. I would like to have enough faith in me to be confident that you are still the same person I knew and would lay my neck on the line for.
I love how you always threatened the living daylights out of anyone who double-crossed me (and I always had to assure you that beating the crap out of them is not going to help, please stop getting all violent, come on let’s just forget about it while you are yelling in both my ears FUCK JUST LET ME GET AT THEM. FUCK.), I love how you always had some trick up your sleeve, you were the best at weaving excuses to get us both out of serious shit. I love how you burst into hysterical fits of laughter at every one of my dumb jokes. I love how we both fought all the time, insulting each other like there was no tomorrow and how every time we demoralized one another… the fact was that we never felt worse. Every time someone banters with me now, it stings because I think of you. It’s funny how our memories come to us at the most random times. Sticks and stones won’t break my bones but your words will drive me crazy.
Your voice. Your deep, at times commanding, intimidating baritone voice. The voice which made so many fear you. But I knew that in that voice, there was a hidden windchime somewhere. You were always gentle with me, I could always hear the most tender note within the lowest octave of your pitch. You always held me dear and I knew. I never felt any sharpness in your voice when we spoke. I never felt any tension. I know this is a side of you you don’t reserve for many.
I am very privileged to have known you and to have you bring me back to life. I cannot thank you enough. I wish you would come back to me and give me an update or at least a small hello. I didn’t even get to wish you Happy Birthday this year. In all the years I’ve known you this was the first birthday I’ve missed. I know you’ve run off but I struggle every day to track down your trail, your footprints which once walked next to mine are now gone from me. You covered your track so seamlessly that I cannot see them much less sniff them out.
I never stop thinking of you. Sometimes I cry a little, not because you are gone but because you gave me much to live for and now I have to make do with lesser. I am not saying that life is unsatisfactory, but with you inside it was impeccable. Now I go through life every day with vigour and zeal, a far cry from when you knew me at my most vulnerable, but at the most secret hour, only the wind in my cheek can hear the most hollow pining in my heart. It beckons for you to come back. When the wind dies down I try to find the direction which might lead me back to you but my compass does not work.
I never stop holding on to our bond. You might have snipped off your end but I think it is enough that I still have my side of it. I never once harboured the thought of giving it up. At my happiest moments I share my joys with you. At my angriest I cannot bring myself to hate you. And it may sound selfish, but at my saddest I find myself imagining your shoulder to lean on. It was the one thing I could rely on at the very worst of times. It was the one thing that I always had confidence in.
But things change and you are reduced to nostalgia and memories in my head. But you are not my past. You have shaped my future and you still are my present. Present: the best gift anyone could have ever bestowed upon me. You are always a part of me. I don’t know what kind of cards life is dealing you with now, but my door is always open to you.
Even after having written so much, I still miss you more than I can bear to pen down.
p.s. please look after yourself as lovingly as how you once looked after me.