Of Dandelions and Lighthouses

Remember the good,
in all things past.
Love, and beauty and hope,
Of tableaus in time,
Holding hands,
baring souls,
sharing dreams,
Tracing names in the sky.

I love you still,
My lighthouse on the shore,
But when every flighty petal
Of the dandelion has flown,
The wind can do little
But carry it away,
Into the sun.

And my heart is broken too,
For I can see you,
In every waking moment,
And every breathless dream.
But I must know what I want,
Before I choose anymore.

Because then, when the rainclouds have cleared,
And the sunshine shimmers through,
I will see the lighthouse,
If it is really meant to be,
And the dandelion will grow again,
Around every inch of the lighthouse,
Strong and pure and true.

And if,
The sunshine should bring no lighthouse,
Among the silhouettes of dawn,
Know that my heart will always wonder,
If my path was right or wrong.

And every single lighthouse,
Along the cliffs of my life,
Will make my eyes wander,
Into the mistakes of the past.

Remember my sweet love,
We are part of one another,
For ever, ever more
And you will always be my lighthouse,
In the darkness,
And the light.


I miss you.

In a way that reminds me of where I was and where I am today. What I could have had and what I don't have and worst of all, what I may never have again. It's not regret. I knew I had to do what I did, I know I needed to do it. But there's clarity in hindsight, and it often makes for a good teacher.

I'm sorry I let a beautiful thing die. I'm sorry I didn't try harder to push through the fog. I know this is pointless, late and pointless. But it makes me feel better to write it out. To give structure and form to a feeling so intense, questions so difficult, to give different hues to shades of grey.

I sometimes feel I'm blessed to know what it was like to be loved like you loved me. Nobody has even come close. Nobody can, the bar is raised too high. I compare, contrast, lay down conditions in my own head, and nobody can even come close. I'm happy you found someone, I'm happy you could go more than a month without the thought that she isn't me. Because for me, there hasn't been a single soul who I could stand the sight of for more than a month. Because nobody was good enough.

I loved you in a way that overwhelmed me sometimes. I can close my eyes and I remember than rush, that feeling of being overpowered by an emotion so strong, there was nothing that came close to it. I'm happy because I know I am capable of loving someone unconditionally.

If there was one person who I would choose to hold me after the accident, it would be you. I think back and sometimes I wish I had just come to you. You would have held me like you did at A's cremation. Like we fit, like you knew where it hurt.

What makes me write this late and pointless and pathetic admission, you ask? The question of whether I will ever find it again. If I will ever feel that rush again, if I will ever lie nestled next to somebody and feel a sense of contentment so strong, if I will ever be able to love and be loved like that again. I know it's a silly question to ask at 22. But I see people all around me- adults, my parents, uncles, aunts, friends, who have gone through an entire lifetime without feeling that feeling. So I think it's a question that warrants asking.

So we've moved on. It's how the world works. Life goes on. We live and we love and we sail through. I only want to say thank you. For being my best friend. For being a lover, friend and a human being with a heart of gold. For showing me that that fairytale kind of love, where you give your heart and soul to another, really does exist.

I remember telling you I would always love you. In some capacity or the other. And I do. I hope you and I can always be part of each others' lives. When I think back, I feel I've given a large part of me away. When you love the way I loved you, you never really become whole again.

I know this will be awkward, and odd, to say the very least. But you must know all of this. I'm sorry if you feel it's not my place anymore to tell you what's in my head. And I hope you read this, and take it in good stead, and know why I needed to say all this.

Perhaps we'll never be lovers again. Maybe if it happened, we wouldn't be the same two
people who sat next to each other on a bus and found something that would become a beautiful, beautiful part of us. But for that one chance, I will always be grateful.