If i knew what i had the license to,

confessions of the girl who found eternity in a memory

How shall I show us to the audience?

We were once one, so tightly knitted and knotted and entangled in each other like how an amateur wattpad writer makes a huge ass paragraph with all the dialogues and time skips all squiggled together as one that no sane person would understand us if they tried to read since we were who we were as we were unique and molded into each other. We couldn't recognize it was me or it was you, as our telepathy grew.

As time moved, slowly commas occurred between us

Slowly the need of punctuation arose and un spoken rules grew;

Do not stay up beyond 1 am; Do not talk to others

Do not talk about past; Do not talk of forevers

Do not change my words ; Do not be sarcastic

Do not use certain words or risk being annoyed-astic

. . .

Ellipses . . . between. . . us. . . grew. . . (despite me meticulously removing my habit of actual ellipses for you)

Slowly we were paragraphs across

Slowly we found ourselves on different pages

Slowly you were the first page and I was the last

Slowly you became another book and I remained in ours

Slowly I lost you, beloved, I lost my favourite book among ashes of memories

Slowly you disintegrated unwillingly as I shifted homes

But

I'll remember you with a rebellious heart , or else how could I rage , rage against the dark?

 I won't forget your cover nor your title to me I won't forget all sides of you, you spine, your back , your pages which I spilled my tea on, your pages which were my favourite aroma, your pages were you cared, you pages where you shared
I will not let that which was real to me become a mere hallucination nor memory
I'll live through it once again, re visit all over again , for this is the life which I'm glad to be swept by
I don't need the visible you—when I'm content with a piece of you, when I'm content with the essence of you. And that, is the very proof I love you. Perhaps you may never know but that's alright, I love you as I see you in the watermelon we are having, in my scan thoughts that I'm having, in my dreams of you, in my predictions of your reactions to my ludicrous-ness, in the songs I dedicated for you, in the pictures I started drawing with you, in my every hobby, in my lifestyle, everything, in everywhere.

You might have changed but that isn't you that I met.

I'm actually living forever with the you who renewed me, reinvigorated me, pushed and pulled me to grow, grow, grow as I pen down this with the little strings of yours wrapped over and over and over many times over my heart that I can't let you go unless I lacerate my heart with a surgery. Oh dear me, no!

The surgery where you go to, does it remind you to lacerate me off too?