‘A’ For Always, Affection And You.

AUTHOR’S NOTE: I think the last post of mine was much appreciated among you all, and so here’s another one. 

Dear A,

            Like hundreds of people who have someone who means as much as you mean to me, I begin this letter with the question, “Where do I begin from?”

 If memories are what we are made of, then I could say you are what allows me to live. Cheesy much? I couldn’t care, we love nachos either way. Senseless much? That’s what we are.

 Anybody who sees us now won’t believe that we’ve known each other only for a year and a half. We’re rarely seen without each other, leading to the belief that we’re lovers. 

Well, they couldn’t be more correct. 

I do love you, but not the way people believe me to. And I’m glad it’s that way, because then no one can question it’s authenticity. There’s no one deciding whether our love, our respect for each other has changed, no one but us. And we both know that there’s no need for us to ever to do that, because- “cross my heart, hope to die.” 

I remember how mad at you I was when you proudly announced to me, “I am leaving and going to–“, well I didn’t let you complete your sentence because that was pretty much it. 

There’s no me without you and no you without me.

I can’t think of anything more to say. I guess this is pretty much the part where I start thanking you for all you did.

Or do I? I wouldn’t mind, but there’s only so much one can read about gratitude, when it’s not about you. So, I’ll just try to say it all in one phrase. 

Thank you for like, life.

Mothers give us birth, that’s true. And our families give us a reason to live. I guess that’s proof enough to let the world know, you’re nothing less than family to me.

A, I’ll take your leave here. Oh and call me, I need a break from life. 

Yours,

K. 

-Kimaya Ingale. 

‘R’ For Reality, Romance And You.

Dear R,

             Everybody knows what you mean to me. Well, I guess everybody but us. 

You’re like the perfect poetry I couldn’t have ever written. The words that dictionaries fail to make me understand. You’re still incomprehensible to me, even though we hate the same animals, both the talking ones and the others. You’re the blurry detail in a photograph, which, instead of making me ignore it, leaves me wanting more.

R, you’re all of that and more.

You’re the one who brought the light with you to ease me into the startling chaos of my reality. I ran from reality as long as I can remember, just because I was a coward; I couldn’t see my mistakes and I ignored the ones which I was shown, because it was just so much easier.

Life before you was easier. Later, I realised, living with you, what “life” was all about.

R, what sets you apart is that you’re asymptotic. Your smile is a curve that few would see as not intersecting the line of pretence. People who pushed you over saw what could be seen easily and took off. I don’t know what made me stay, but I know it has got a lot to do with giggles and long conversations and not having the need of trying to “fit in”.

It has a lot to do with being each other’s cheerleaders and staying that way.

Eh, I know you’ve read hundreds of these appreciation posts. And that irks me, because words aren’t enough to let the world know what you, this tiny 5 foot being is made of.

For the first time, I wish for something more, something more concrete and absolute than my words to romance you. I could say a thousand ‘I love yous’ and yet, my heart would argue saying that this isn’t just love.

You’re magic, R. Whatever anybody says about you, I don’t listen. When somebody acts like they know you, I laugh because I know they don’t. 

What they see is a small child, in need of love and protection. They don’t see the same child guarding the heart of a 5’4″ something nerd. They don’t see her being the sole reason of someone’s smile on a rough day, because that’s how she is. 

I just don’t love you because I know all that you’ve done for me. I love you for all that you unknowingly did and made me smile.

This letter is nothing but me rambling and yet again, failing to capture your beauty and showcasing it to  the world. 

Maybe, I have begun to understand, that not all art is meant to be captured and showcased. And you, my darling, are certainly one heck of a masterpiece.

Yours,

K.

Kimaya Ingale.