I feel extremely frail around him. It is like I am about to fall apart. I avoid talking to him on difficult days like these. His knowing eye never misses small details. Like my missing smile. I am terrified of his questions. I am scared that he’d ask me what is wrong and it will become the cue for me to fall apart and break down. Worst bit is, I can’t lie to him. I can’t just say I am having a bad day and move on. He’d know I am lying. I feel like he looks through my soul every time he just looks at me.

I want to reveal everything. I want to tell him how I feel, not just about him but also about my world. About my life. I know he will understand. He will agree. And he will hold me when I break down. And yet I can’t say a thing.

He is perfection that belongs to someone else. An equally deserving someone who values him just as much as I do. They are the perfect duo. The kind you hear of in fairy tales, the kind you see on glossy magazine covers. I can’t help but admire them. But days like these when I know that only he is my only cure and my only friend, all I do is wish he didn’t know me.  And I wish he didn’t care because he makes me feel so much more frail.



It is strange how memories are made. We never really think that something good or bad that we do is actively leaving an impression on someone’s mind or sometimes even on their souls. It may be some thing as simple as a smile or it may be something life changing as a relationship. Nothing is too small or too big when it comes to forming a powerful memory.

He and I don’t have anything in common. We don’t talk a lot. He doesn’t read. I can’t talk like he does. He lives in images, I live in words. We think alike but express ourselves in extremely different ways. He surrounds himself with people, I surround myself with self made walls. He doesn’t try and I don’t give in.

He is extremely polite. I already believe he is a part of me; I don’t get the point of thank-you-s and hello-s. He sees everything that’s right about me. I see everything that is perfect about him.
He moves ahead with every step. I drag myself to catch up with him. He is my benchmark, I am his…nothing.

I have managed to make every moment spent with him a memory. My mind records every word he says. Every lame joke he cracks. Every door he holds open and every kind word he says. Nothing he does seems significant to him. But to me everything he does is a memory, powerful enough to make or break my world.