Backspace

Backspace

86 days. 6 hours. 4 minutes.

Since the last time I texted you

I start typing, yet again. Trying to fit Everything I feel The chaos, the ache, the tears, Into a single message Within a limit '1000 characters’.

I backspace, yet again. There's so much hidden in the words we erase. The empty chatbox, waiting to be quenched. Have you ever wondered, How does emptiness feel so heavy?

1000 characters aren't enough. Words, aren't enough.

I want to tell you everything I have and haven't done all these days The moments I missed you, The moments I smiled, Moments I barely managed to survive Walking on the pieces of my broken self, Discovering bits of me, I thought I had lost. The nights I cried Wishing you were here, Wishing i could call Waiting for you to call. And hear your voice Just one more time.

The days I wanted to scream at you For letting me go Days I wanted to whisper, Tell you that I loved you. Days I wanted to tell you, You broke me. Days I wanted to beg you To fix me.

I wanted to tell you that Ma and Papa made up. They smile a lot these days, and I try to smile along. The other morning, I woke up to them singing along to the radio, and I cried. It felt like the home I once grew up in It felt like I was okay again. But I couldn't call you and tell you That I'm finally smiling After weeks. And it didn't feel so okay anymore. What does okay really mean? Can you just tell me please?

I finished that novel I was stuck on, I managed to reach half way through your 'Must Watch Movies!!!!!' list I learnt 5 different songs on my Uke But Who do I play them for? I have reconciled with the quietness now.

It isn't easy for me you know? It never was. But I'm trying, aren't I?

I wanted to tell you I'm scared I'm scared that I am forgetting you, I'm forgetting us. The memories seem to fade away, As I try to hold on to them. Your voice- While you were laughing that night we went to India Gate. Your hands- around me those nights When I shivered and cried. Your annoying beard Softly brushing against My cheek. Your eyes- Dark brown eyes Staring into me every morning; Waiting for me to wake up. Your smell- I don't recall how you smell. I want to But I don't. I don't. For mom's washed your blue t-shirt again And again And yet again Till it stopped Reminding me of you. I once told you, you smell like home. How often do we change the connotation of home? It hurts. All of it.

But what hurts the most Is that I can't tell you any of it. The empty chatbox screams out to me. The cursor blinks on. How can emptiness feel so heavy, love?

I don't want to be stuck in a past that doesn't exist anymore, So I'm here on my staircase, stuck on backspace instead.