There are nights I have sat through, waiting for the sun to rise – when I had every reason to be sleeping. But I know that deep down, I was waiting for you to find me. That you’d have reached home a long while back and would possibly be biding your spare time reminiscing over old photographs. I’d hope that you decided to think about me. I also know that it is unlikely that a mere thought would bring you towards me, but the love burning inside my heart makes me hold on to the miniscule chance that it could. I feel pathetic, do you know that ? I feel like I am begging for reciprocation at the door step of someone who I know might not even set foot outside to see. You once told me that I am earth and you are water, and that between such people, something beautiful could grow – or mud would be created. In whatever has grown between us, darling, I have been sinking. You have left me to drown. It’s unfair. I have been unfair to myself. You told me that we drifted apart. Don’t insult my love by ever thinking it abandoned you. While I have tried to walk away, it has stood its ground for you. All I ask now is that you treat it kindly. Soothe whatever dignity is left of it. This love is exhausted, it’s been bruised.
And still, it waits for you.