The Mistakes We Could Have Made

I've hurt you a lot.

I'm no angel here. 

You have as well, you know. 

I'm not the devil either.

One shouldn't care too much about anyone.

We tend to suffer too much, yes.

It can seriously hurt the ones we love. 

Different dialects of the same language.

Such a long journey.

And yet we only run into ourselves.

Its not as warm as it used to be.

Seasons change. People don't.

You're a loner.

I love the stories that begin and end at airports.

Yeah love stories.

No! Stories of love they are.

Hate is also a form of passion you know. 

But indifference is like death. 

I always say as to whats on my mind.

Somehow I only care about what you haven't said.

I never meant to hurt you. 

We were born to hurt each other.

The heart is a funny organ.

 I would know out of all the people.

Our wounds will heal with time.

Or get replaced by new ones.

No past love comes close to what we have.

No one has hurt me as much as you have.

Our pain is like a medal.

And we shall wear it with pride.

I will love you only if you let me. 

I'm good at building fences you know.

This is insane.

Imagination and reality are two different things.

Your metaphors will be the death of me.

I'm like that ripped book with the last few pages missing.

Why do we feel sadness the most? 

Because mediocrity is such a turn off.

I can spend hours in museums. What about you?

Auschwitz.

I like how you say my name.

Sometimes words are not enough.

My name is not just a word.

I wonder where people go when they die.

 I'm drowned in you. 

Indifference is my floating device.

I know you are hurt.

Four letter words. Sigh.

I wish I could be more perfect.

And I wish you were more flawed. Maybe then...

I've made a lot of mistakes.

We could have made more mistakes. Our own.

I don't know anything anymore. 

The first time you hurt someone is the only time you can.

As in?

You are my Grey area. You are my almost. You are beautiful. I'm not.

 I'm sorry.

No I'm.

Why so?

Because my presence made my absence more obvious.

 

Solitary Confinement

The human body is very much like a hospital. Any hospital. Some areas are extremely busy and some are more laid back. Seems like the body works in shifts as well. When its day time the heart rate is usually faster and all the Neurons and Nephrons are trying to get somewhere but at a faster speed & as compensation the speed goes down as the night rolls out. That's how a hospital is as well. You will see everyone running around like crazy during the day but will witness more empty hallways during the night because most people stay home. But the fact remains that like our bodies ...a hospital for sure slows down but never shuts down completely.

We all have to get to places during the day. Everyone is rushing to be somewhere. To catch a bus. To meet the love of their life. To get to that interview 15 minutes before so they can leave a good impression. To show up to work on time. We are all on a mission here. We all have to get to places because believe it or not we all have a story. And then the unexpected happens. To us. To people around us. We always think it will be someone we don't know but that's where life proves us wrong.

They bring  patients into the ER all the time. Really critical patients at times. Patients with heart failure or gun shots or Strokes or miscarriages or cardiac arrests or even car accidents. All kinds of people come here on a stretcher. If they are lucky they don't make it. And if they are not then they live through the trauma. What is a trip to the ER anyway for a terminally ill patient? Its like the team around him or her is trying to buy him some more time.That's all life is at the end of the day. You try to dodge death and buy sometime for that patient. Sewing wounds and putting them on blood thinners is just a way to work around it.

This path begins with a lot of people. There is a team working to fix the problem or rather control the problem. Once things are under control they sew the wound. They put a white bandage on it. And if the patient is lucky there is/are family/friends waiting on the other side. But recovery isn't an easy path. Injury is the easy part. You have a team working with/on you to fix whats wrong there. And when you wake up there are people who are there to spend time with you and take care of you. But then recovery is a very lonely path. Its a very personal and internal process and you're pretty much on your own.

Its like those empty hospital corridors at night. Lonely and scary. Your mind wanders into a lot of things while passing through there. Its unpredictable. Its dark and its very quiet in there. You get to listen to yourself for a change but sometimes you don't want to do that. The inner noise is much worse than the outer noise and recovery reminds you of that.

You learn to walk and talk again. You develop interpersonal skills all over again. You learn to be patient with yourself and with others. You learn to communicate differently and above all you learn to accept that people will now look at you differently.

You are a work in progress but a very different kind of a work. A very fragile and damaged one. This trauma is life long. The solitude. The path on which you walk alone...

Its the betrayal of the body. One of the worst types of betrayals if you ask me.

Everyone Dies A Little

I want to say a lot of things but I won't.

Please don't. I need you and you need me..

Life is not like the movies. 

But I like music. 

I often find myself thinking only about you. 

I wish I could feel what that's like. 

There is a strange smell all around tonight. 

Its worse in the city. Here its okay. 

You know our hearts are like cities as well. 

Deep oceans in my opinion.

Play me a song on the piano. Any song. 

Someone like you. 

No leave it. Its okay. 

I don't want you to "fix" anything. 

The inner turmoil will be the end of us. 

All good things must come to an end. 

I feel sorry for homeless people.

The heart is their home.

Tell me something about you that I don't know.

Just listen. 

I used to be a loner.

I used to have long hair.

I used to be a reader. 

I used to read between the lines. 

My favorite word was revolution. 

Melancholy.

I used to cry a lot. 

I used to laugh out loud. 

You're right..our hearts are like oceans. 

Continents of some sort. 

What do you expect from me? 

Hope. 

You know people around us..some of them will die one day. 

Everyone dies (a little). 

You know what I mean. 

It might rain tonight.

I bet they just called it food in China. 

Like Fries are just Fries to the French. 

I'm sorry.

Don't be. Everything ends. Like I said.

Did you ever love me? 

I love folding paper cranes. For good luck. The Japanese do it.

I'm not stupid. 

My limbs are aching. 

I love you.

I'm jaded. We're even.

I often imagine long walks on the beach. 

Are you done?

I  can break the locks in your mind.

I threw out the key. Sorry about that. 

This will kill you. 

I don't know any better. 

Break this Berlin wall please.

I have lived in Madrid all my life. I don't know Berlin.

Sigh. 

I know you differently in my dreams you know.

Its getting late. 

We were always like those unfortunate parallel lines.

I might leave this time.

You always come back. My heart has always been your home.

It hurts too much. 

And yet you'll attempt to fill those voids in my heart.

I'm yours.

I almost loved you too.

I said a lot today. 

Me too.

I won't say anymore.

                                                                                          Please don't. I need you and you need me.