#23<3

Holding yourself high, almost everywhere, gets tiring after a time. It makes you want to fall, just fall off from some high cliff and let go off everything that you have held on to.

Suddenly, everything feels like it is choking you, like it is closing up on you and you have no out. The chest feels like a vacuum filled vessel, like it holds nothing and yet holds a lot; the eyes feel like the tired ocean, like it reaches the shore and yet pulls itself before it wets our feet; the breath feels like a cyclone, like it spirals out to provide relief and yet it sucks in all the energy, leaving us tired.

Then, some day, you have just propped yourself high with a meager stick you could find, and you realize that your hand is no more empty, it feels heavy, but it has a touch that wants you to stay. You realize that, whatever you propped yourself up with has been slowly taken off and kept aside; instead now, a hug has held you close and supported your ever so tired back and aching shoulders. You realize that, you are breath is slowly normalizing, it is liberating and yet very soothing. You realize that your cheeks have gone red, and your eyes are finally opening up, they are slowly letting their guard down and that heavy feeling in your chest is ever so slightly light, but it feels a million times peaceful.

You realize that you have company, you have someone who wants you and trusts you. You realize you have a hand to hold, a smile to live for, a pair of eyes to fall for, a heart beat to tune yourself to and a soul to feel for. You realize, you found yourself, with the help of someone and now; you realize, you have pieced yourself stronger and better than before, and that you are complete with you and them.

On some day again, you will feel the same detachment and you will realise that you are piecing up again; this time even better, because either, they are still here, or they left you with memories of you that make you better.

and by stay; believe me i don't ask for the company to last forever. when is ask for it to stay, i don't want it to turn into a commitment, neither do i ask for it to be around always.

i ask for it to linger..

/to stay around in my thoughts, the way the stars although faraway and twinkle in the skies, the way the sun loves the moon, not together yet lets it shine in utmost glory..

/to last somewhere deep in my eyes, the way the old ship lies at the bottom of the sea, not on the surface, where everyone gets to see it; rather flash itself once in a while, when my tears stir up, reminiscing the good we shared

/to lay itself in the aroma of the coffee I drink everyday, in the sheets we once used, in the whiff of the first rain, in the crunch of the first fallen leaf, in the savor of the freshly baked cookies on wintry mornings

/ to linger in my skin; the touches that make me yearn for more; in the comfort of my blanket, like his hugs were; in my heart, where i can keep it safe and unadulterated, far from anyone's lust, envy or infatuation

/ to dawdle in the pages of my books; at the edges of my window sill, where we hung out from dusk to dawn; in the crevices of the couch where we sat cross legged, laughing and giggling to life

Chains, locks, threads, tapes, jails, strings, glue... all forms of attachments. The worst and the best though, is the one between that of two hearts, two souls, two minds... may be two lives.

The time, the emotions we possess, the ability to think and relate works wonders in how the attachments change for us.

On some days they seem like the little intricate threadwork on a shawl that wraps around a shivering heart and gives it the warm it needs. On some days they resemble little tapes and the blobs of glue on the artwork of a 10 year old's craft work; all messy, but worth the effort of holding onto the childish aims of the heart and the wannabe mature decisive brain. On some days they hold the image of a prisoner in locks and chains, struggling and writhing for freedom, with the frail cry to live again.

The most confusing ones though, are the string like attachments. Like, the string attached to the kite, it lets the kite fly high and away from the flyer and sometimes close to the bearer, sometimes limiting the flight of the kite and sometimes grazing the flyer's fingers.

It would help both, the flyer, if he lets the kite go and the kite if it doesn't tug a lot. The kite flies high up while he ends up with no wounds. But is that worth all of it ? Is it really okay, if the kite keeps flying high and gets lost and torn, or may be the flyer never decides to fly another kite, because losing this one made it hard for him ?

Did the attachment hurt either of them ? Questions come crashing and answers don't follow. The pangs of pain and separation keep hitting and the embarrassment of owning to this weakness, drives one crazy, probably distant.