•Like reaching to a beautiful place all alone, with no one to share with.•
A Short Story by Megha Suresh. (@msuresh.23)
I played the same old music that we both liked. A familiar feeling was being felt even now, I thought to myself. Same place, same couch, same lights, and the same house. The only difference I could spot was your absence. I think I’m still dependent on you for my smile.
I still remember the first time I met you. Those curved stairs couldn’t have given me anything better. A soul mate for a lifetime. Your smile is my strength. Oh I should have written ‘was’? But why? It still is. .
“Happy with me or not?”, you asked on that day.
“Its you I’d chose over anything ever”, I replied. . .
Was it not enough that you are punishing me this way? The things I said, have forgotten everything? Why aren’t you replying? Why?
I just came back home from the hospital. You lie there absolutely quiet. I don’t know why are you so stubborn? Why can’t you speak to me? Can you hear me?
In this thought process, I did not realize when the music ended and another one had already began.
Can you see how much I need you? Can’t you wake up for me again? Can’t you? ~ Megha Suresh. ⠀
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ADRESSED TO ALL THE PEOPLE THAT BROKE ME:
I'm still here, I'm still standing
Even from this broken neck from breathing in the glass promises you lodged in my sternum
Even the cheekbones bruised from all the kisses that never came
This heart is black and blue and still beating as hard as the day you left me, but now these fingers know, just as much softness as pain
The other day my mom told me she was proud of me not for my struggles, not for this blackness that coats my lungs, not for acing my anatomy test or getting a promotion at work.
She told me she was proud of me because I am kind, and it's funny, all I could think of where the bullets you hurled at me.
Covering my ears from gunshots, learning how to fall in love with a loaded gun, how to laugh in the middle of a battlefield.
Now I have compassion for all of the sadness I have not caused because I know what it's like to run away and end up free but end up broken . I want to thank you for teaching me how to pick up a pen, how to turn this pain into something others can touch, how to craft cruelty into kindness. I want to thank you for putting this on the shoulders of someone who can pass on the message: you can get through this. If I can do it so can you, I'll always store a little gun powder in my veins, just enough to remember but not enough to pull the trigger because I know how much of a difference a little kindness can make.
addressed to all the people who broke me(achingchest .tumblr.com)
I found that my mind has a selective memory like no other. I sometimes forget my past and look at old pictures in total surprise. I quickly forget the suffering, the hard work, the determination and consistency I have to fight each day to reach and retain my healing. As I am embrace the living in the now and the dreaming for the future, I am consciously choosing to take few moments to reflect on my past. #Letusnotforget so we can truly stay grounded and grow. #quotestoliveby#myjourney#Transformation