From One Lost Soul To Another

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This one's dedicated to my beautiful friend who turns sixteen today! 



From one lost soul to another,

“A year has passed. It’s been more than a year actually. And I don’t think about it anymore. I don’t think about him anymore. It’s all over. It was over the day it started. I’m a changed person now.

I know that what I wished for Could never happen. And what I wished for Would never happen. It’s a play on words. Of words. Words. Mere words. Words that changed my life. Completely and entirely.

And now I know that we weren’t meant to be. There wasn’t even a ‘we’, to start with. Ever. It was deception. Just deception. And I’m over it. I’m over all of it.”

And, now, I wish that all this was true.
I wish things were different.
I wish we were different.
I wish that we’d never given up on each other.  
And I wish that I was still myself.

But I’m not.
I’m not myself anymore.
I’m someone else. Someone completely else.
Someone different.
Someone who’s not me.
Someone.
Just someone.
Just another someone.
Someone, who, is still stuck.

In that past.
In my past.
In a past that never was.
In a past, that always was.
In a past, overwhelmed by deception.
In a past, mended by perception.
In a past, that took away my everything.
In a past, that left me with nothing.



I say I’ll forget him tomorrow. But there never really is a tomorrow. It’s just an illusion. An illusion that tempts us into giving in to the fragments of our desperation and the rare missiles of our non- existent hope.

With us, I didn’t ever wish for things to be easy. I never really did. I loved the flood we were burning in. It woke me up. It made me feel something I had never felt before, alive. It made me myself. And I enjoyed every mille-second of it. After all, we were slow dancing within the macramé of our miseries.

And I don’t think that I’ve ever felt that way again. It was my high. My low. My easy come. And my never go. It was everything and it was nothing. It was a dream within a dream.

And. I was myself.

But then, I lost track. I lost track of everything. My hopes, wishes, dreams, desires, aims, expectations. Everything.

All I knew was that those moments, those moments right there, with him, was exactly who I am. Who I was. Before I lost myself.

Before I lost him.
And before I lost.

It’s been long. It’s been a long time since then and I’ve suffered every waking second.
I didn’t think I’d ever be so weak to admit it. But I miss him. I miss him and everything we ever were. And I miss myself.

And it’s been long since I have been wondering. Wondering along the edges of my painful symphonies. 

And now, I have given up.
I’ve given up. Completely and insanely.

Let this silence drown me now.
I can’t take it anymore.
It is too much.
It is too much to take in.

And I’m tired.
I’m tired of all of it.
Let it go.
Let it all go.

Because, in the end, we’re all lost.
But haven’t we been lost all this while?

Lost.
Just lost.