Her.
I met her in class 11th. We went to coaching together. She was a friend of a friend, someone in the background of what was my life. She was crazy about Sonu Nigam. She worked hard and was as sincere as people get. I can imagine her smiling at me with the white highlights in her hair and her frameless specs in her baggy jeans and yellow shirt. I could have never imagined myself falling so deeply for her. We became friends, not very close ones. But there was this vibe about her that ensured I kept contact with her even after I left home and came to Delhi. Everytime I would go back home, I would visit her. And in one of those visits, my elder brother pointed out that she was cute. And that was the first time I realised that engrossed in her conversations, I had never noticed how beautiful she was. When you look too closely at things, shit becomes blur.
I was in college first year, she told me she was joining my university next year. I proposed we live together with three other friends. Not knowing anyone else in the big city, she agreed. And that was the start of five beautiful years of living together. We changed places, we changed roommates, but she was always there. Growing with me. And I couldn't help falling in love. And it was so easy to tell her that I loved her but I couldn't come out and tell her that it was more than just friends. That I adored her, that I was protective about her, that I was jealous of all of her crushes. And that I wanted her to feel what I felt when her hands would brush agianst mine. And that it hurt so much when I hurt her. That my eyes have tears right now writing this. That I have never felt a love so strong. That it sucked when you went into your first relationship. That it was heartbreaking to hear that you had your first kiss.
Then you broke up with that guy. And I would forever be grateful to that night when we were slightly drunk getting handsy and then I was going to kiss you but your freaking beautiful long hair that I love lay over your lips and I just didn't have the guts to move them. I wasn't sure you wanted to be kissed and you wouldn't move them because you wanted me to make the move. Out in sobriety, you teased me about the lost opportunity for days. But we had Rishikesh, me and you in a tent, cut off from the entire world. And I pressed my lips against yours, your specs lay next to the pillow, your jet black hair splayed across the white pillow cover. We didn't talk about what it meant, I didn't try again. Some nights you would hug me too tight and the feelings would surface. But I knew deep down that you were never meant to be mine. That you had given your heart to someone else. And I would always be second best. That you were too into him to notice me. And I ensured that nothing could ever develop between us. We will continue as friends who had shared a few vulnerable moments. Moments that I will cherish forever.
I am grateful for whatever feelings you had for me and for your company.
Love you.
