Will you remember how we met and I told you I played viola and you thought it was the coolest thing because you never met someone who did that? You thought I was the next Lindsey Stirling.
You’ll never know my favorite Bollywood movie, but you watched a couple.
You’ll never remember how I taught you to say ILY in Urdu.
You will never remember me explaining to you the Partition of 1947 when we watched Veer Zaara
You will forget my love for Mariah Carey and Broadway musicals,
Remember when we watched Grease in your room on a rainy day and we made out during the songs? Good times, good times.
Actually, I can’t even remember how it felt to kiss passionately, our lips touching…how long has it been? I wish I could go back in time and pull you into me every single time, instead of soft pecks, I want to dive into you.
Nostalgia at its finest.
You will never know my passion for writing – though you know I have a passion to protect women’s rights in third world countries.
You will never know my deepest struggles. You’ll remember me as having a full-ride to college, having the easy way as you struggled to make ends meet.
You will remember me as cocky, because I was confident, but because you did not know me when I struggled to love myself. You did not see me starve myself, you did not see me have panic attacks at the thought of eating anything more than an egg per day. You saw this girl who said she loved herself…but had spent so long hating her body.
You will remember me as funny, I hope, but still I was getting used to being so open with you. I remember the first time I farted in front of you while getting Subway. One of our last several dates together, and you held me and said we’re good together. Was that doubt in your voice?
You will remember me being insecure, catty, starting fights for so long, being a total mess, but not the part where you caused it, not the parts where I apologized and cried all night wondering why I can’t keep it together, and wondering how to show the man I love that I love him so much?
You will remember me fighting hard, not wanting to let you go, not giving you space – but not see the tears I could not fight back every day knowing I had no choice, but that I could not let you go without a war. No, you were the one constant thing in my life, you were my best friend.
You will never know how I’d compliment you to everyone I knew, and paid respects to you even with you gone. I’d protect your honor even if you did me wrong. They don’t know you.
You will remember me telling you everything will be okay, but not me actively trying to find ways to make you smile, cook for you, anything to comfort you,
You will never know how much knowing your mother was fine got me through the day, how much I actually cared to know.
And you will never know how regretful I am for causing everything to be destroyed, and how angry I am at you for being a part of that – and not fighting with me, not growing with me, not realizing I was great for you – and being too stubborn to see we were worth fighting for
and I’m angry at you for making me believe what we had was special – cus if you never felt that way I’d have stopped fighting long, long time ago
You won’t know how much I regret being a fool, but not regret being foolishly in love with you.
You won’t see me pray every day you will become a better person and not leave another heart broken. The way you left mine.
And failed to even give me the apology I deserve.