Frozen.

I sit at the window of my New York apartment. Sunlight quickly fades as it is replaced by the signs of night bringing in the first flecks of snow. Storm clouds gather on the horizon and you can see them make their way towards the city. The smell of dampness in the atmosphere is almost unmistakable. That is if, like me, you are a fan of the rain and the snow. The earthly scent that wafts through the air as the first drops begin to fall, is almost intoxicating. I know there will be a storm tonight. One that this city has never seen before. But the question that eats at me is- will there be more than one? One that my heart has never experienced before?

When I came clean with mum, dad and Julian about what I was to do, what I'd been thinking about doing for a while now, they seemed less surprised than I anticipated. Maybe they accepted this of me, sooner or later. I never quite could be held down. But this was more than that. More than just wanting to be free. It was Christmas Day. I'd been home for the holidays and I had decided that if I didn't tell them now, I never would. Family and friends were going to be arriving soon so I figured better now than later, what with Uncle Charlie belching out drunken 'Thank you's' and 'Sorry's' for punching Uncle Steven during Senior Year, and sleeping with his girlfriend. Also, this was something I had to do face to face. I couldn't just brush it off with a phone call to each of them. It wasn't that simple. They deserved to know in person and from me. I owed them that much. Jules was the most supportive. My brother has always had my back with our parents. Even if it was something he didn't agree with personally. It often occurred to me that despite being a boy, he was the more level headed of the two of us, but the decision that I'd made now, only evidenced it further.

My parents in spite of lacking surprise were not so generous in their words and opinions. "You're ruining your life, Jane!" Dad accused as he waved a dead chicken that he'd just cut up and brought from the farm, in my face. I took that as his 'not so subtle' way of being symbolic. "Don't throw away what you have over a "feeling," baby girl. These whims come and go." Mom said, as she looked at me almost pitifully. But how could I explain to them that this wasn't just a 'feeling.' It wasn't like I'd woken up one day and like a chameleon changing color, decided to change my whole life.  This 'feeling' had been emptying my soul and killing me slowly, mercilessly. Telling me that I'd gotten so used to the ordinary that I was terrified to come out of it. This 'feeling' is what had me waking up in a cold sweat every night. This 'feeling' is what brought me down to my knees and compelled me to sought God for help. This wasn't just a 'feeling.'

The key in the hole and the sound of the doorknob as it turns is what snaps me out of my reverie. The storm has begun, the snow hitting heavy on the window pane. Manhattan is a blur now, having been enveloped in a curtain of rain and mist. A bolt of lightening flashes as I look up to see him make his way towards me, his hair a tangled mess of snowflakes, raindrops and perfection, clothes soaked to the tee, and that big glowing smile on his face. The smile that had got me entangled in all of this in the first place. The smile that calmed my fears effortlessly. The smile that I would now snatch away from him forever.

He takes his shirt off as he draws closer and everything around me stops. I want to picture this moment. This final moment, before the storm hits in full swing. This moment where everything is okay. No pain. No grief. I want to remember it forever, keeping it safely locked away in the back of my mind. What happened? I ask myself. Where did it all go wrong? And the thunder lets out a slow growl, as if to answer my thoughts. "These storms are so unpredictable" he says, as he takes my hand and plants a kiss on my forehead. "It was such a perfectly fine and ordinary day in the morning."  

Perfectly fine and ordinary. 

I breathe him in as I take one last look. One last attempt at cementing everything about him in my memory. Every angle of him, the feel of his arms, his hands, the way he laughed, those random tickle wars, the way his brow furrowed when he concentrated too hard, the way he looked in the morning- in all his tousled haired glory, the texture of it, the way he took his coffee, the way his lips tasted, the tiny scar just below his Adam's apple, in the hollow of his collarbone, and his eyes. His brown burning bright eyes. They notice me stare, and he falters looking directly into my own auburn ones. He always knew how to read me like an open book.

You don't love him anymore, Jane. Let go. 

"We need to talk" I say, as I see- and feel to my bone- that glowing smile fade away. "I'm leaving you. I want a divorce."  
The storm cries out, as we sit there.
Frozen. 
Just like we've been all these years.

A Friendly Reminder.

Hi, you.
You, who I haven't seen in over a year. 

You, who I haven't spoken to in months.
You, who I texted just last week. 

Or just yesterday.
You, who I rarely ever reply to.
You, who doesn't feel the need to keep the conversation going anymore.
You, who I hardly even acknowledge now.
I love you more than any written word could ever convey to you.
I love you in the silence that follows when my phone blinks and lights up, and I read a message from you.
I smile so much
that I forget to text back.
Or in the silence when there's Nothing from you because for whatever reason, we drifted apart.

I still find myself staring at the phone.
That you'll make the first move, I hope against all hope.
And the feeling I get when I miss you,
Explaining even the tiniest fragment of what it does to me will take an eternity. 

And another one after that.
And one more after that.
Till pretty soon, we're running out of eternities.
It's like a thousand butterflies and a thousand knives
All at war with each other,
on this battlefield called Distance.
No words. No messages. No letters.
Nothing
could ever ever
describe how much I miss you.
And how dangerously, unbelievably in love I am with you.
You, who I think about every second of every minute of every hour of everyday.
You, who are so strong and so maddeningly alluring, inside and out.
You, who are chaotic within, but a beautiful disaster, nonetheless.
You, who are capable of so much more than your broken and longing heart allows you to believe.
You, who cannot fathom the immensity your presence has on the people who really truly matter.
On me.
I may not say it.
I may not show it.
You may never see me again. You may never hear from me.
But know this.
I believe in you.
I am so proud of you.
I love you.
And I miss you.

Always.

October, My Love.

October my love, how bittersweet you were.
Sweeping in unexpectedly, catching me off guard.
Always was I aware of your existence but,
never would I have deemed you to be the one to steal my heart.

October, my love.

So gentle.
So kind.
The leaves you shed around me were like a blanket,
a comforting antidote for my constantly troubled mind. 

You came in and along with you brought in the rain.
It cleansed me, 

saved me, from a fate worse than death,

now forever free of the sorrow, forever free of the pain.

You surprised me, you amazed me.
Igniting feelings that were so astoundingly quiet, I assumed them to be dead.
You breezed your way into my haunted thoughts,

and scattered my mind of all coherent beliefs.
All the while leaving scars not of pain, but of bliss instead.

October, my love, nothing lasts forever.
You were gone with the wind just as soon as you came.
November, bless him,

he was always such a problem child,
he thinks he can sweep me away.

But no, never you fear.
Patiently will I wait again, for when the wind takes over and the leaves begin to fall.
I'll listen expectantly, for in the sound of the rain,
I'm almost certain I will hear you call.

For October, you have my heart now. And my salvation, you will always be.
From now itself starts a new beginning,
The beginning of a hope that I will see you again.
In a new year, in a new world,
In a new time...
Won't you come back to me?

Pictures of You.

I looked at a picture of you today. Smiling, happy.
More in love than I'd ever seen you.
I'd never been lucky enough to be the reason for that brightness in the eyes that I'd so inexorably fallen for. I'd never seen a love and elation so powerful in those eyes, that it made the one looking at it want to delight in the joy of your happiness.
But those pictures could never make me smile. Truth be told, it did just the opposite. It broke me. It tore me up within, with the knowledge that I wasn't The One. The reason that that ecstasy in your life existed. The source of your pleasure and contentment. I died slowly, every time I looked at a picture...
a fresh cut...
a bloody and bruising reminder of the life you now had...
It would not let me forget.
It wasn't me, it never would be, it never could be.

I looked at a picture of you today. Smiling, happy.
And I waited. Waited for the grief to come and sweep me up in a blinding daze of tears and sadness. I waited for that hatred that my heart had gotten so used to, to overwhelm me. I waited for the pain of losing you, the pain that ran like a drug mixed with my blood, coursing through my veins, to engulf me. I was addicted to the hurt and the misery, and therefore I waited.
And waited.
And waited.
But nothing, no kind of sorrow was harnessed.
All that showed was a smile echoing acceptance.
And a new found forgiveness.

I looked at a picture of you today. Smiling, happy.
And for the first time, I smiled too.
My heart didn't stop.
The pain didn't come, my blood and body to claim.

I looked at a picture of you today. Smiling, happy.
And not a single trace of the emotions you once evoked in me, the ones that consumed me,
remains.

Love, Light and Everything in Between.

Do you hear that incessant noise? Can you see the extra 3 kgs on your weighing scale? Do you see the streets so empty yet so filled with beautiful lights? Well, if you don't, you probably don't, like Renelle, live in India and you're missing out on a lot. And she's totally making eyes at me now through the phone screen (What did you think? Computers? Pfft. #techswag)
By the way, hi, I'm Abhishta. You don't know me personally but, I don't know Bill Gates personally and I'm still surviving so, I'm sure you can live without knowing me. Also, I'm positive you don't know Renelle personally either. You don't right? RIGHT? *nervous giggle*
As a kid, Diwali, for me, was a festival when I lit a few crackers that excited the crap out of me (the really basic ones, I'm terrified of bombs), but more than that, it was that one time in the year where families came together. Whether it was going from house to house to visit family members or like the recent addition Skype calls for long distance family members. It's that time of the year when you don't mind cheating on your diet because, HELLO, 'kaaju katli', 'jalebis', 'gulab jamun'... You get the point (You can go open that box of sweets that you've been craving for, now.)
Firecrackers, somehow, are a part of Diwali that most of us have grown up with but it's also alarming for the environment. All I can say is, there should be a limit on firecrackers and please don't buy those Butterflies, I almost died because of one of those.
So light a diya or a sparkler, make 'rangolis', eat truckloads of sweets (cheating or not), I'll be here having Nutella on bread listening to Ed Sheeran songs, sitting at my window, enjoying my Diwali with Renelle on Google Hangouts, while she drives this blog home.
Take it away, Perairs.
Yes. That was Abhishta. Who is Abhishta, you ask? No? Well, I'm going to answer it anyway. Abhishta is my charming, happy-go-lucky, curly haired, unbelievably humorous best friend AKA the happier half of me. Yes, this is a collab blog post of funny and profound and I don't know how Abhishta forgot to mention this at the start. (She was probably too busy RUBBING SALT ON MY WOUNDS) We wanted to do this so bad. Why? Because we're awesome. Even though we're fully aware that nobody gives two shits about what we wanna say or our feelings and our emotions or what we do in life. Speaking of life, now I'm supposed to get all philosophical, after Abhishta just talked about KAJU KATLI AND GULAB JAMUN?! How is this even fair. Sigh.
I miss Diwali.
I miss Abhishta.
I miss mithai.
Ugh I miss everything.
Why you gotta be so rude, life?
You'd think, living in the City of Dreams, I would not lack light in my life. The brightness of Time Square. Laughter and love all around me, filling my entire being. Billboard signs and Taylor Swift, singing "Welcome to New York. It's been waiting for you!" But that couldn't be further from the truth. Every second of every minute of every hour of everyday I am still constantly searching for my light. For that one sparkling beam that will bring me home, to my destiny. While the light of diyas and lanterns beautifully fill up my home in India, my light- the light within me, that final brilliant burning brightness that will give meaning to my existence, still needs to be found. I am nowhere close to finding it yet, and sometimes it even seems an impossible feat. But I know, that I cannot give up. I will not give up. Because whenever a new day dawns and light from the sun illuminates my heart, it allows me to believe, to hope, that I am one step closer to that light that will bring me back to life.
Diwali, you marvelous, mesmerizing festival, I am here in another world, in another time, ready to embrace the new hope you bring every year, that someday, somehow I will find my ray of light...
In the meantime, Google Hangouts with Bishta is the perfect way to celebrate because her faith, along with so many others all these years, that one day I will shine, is what has kept my darkened heart alive.
Hey Abs Lalu, this philosophical enough for you?
Happy Diwali, peace and all our love. (Go get your own Nutella, we're not sharing)
From two best friends living on opposite sides of the world, but closer than they've ever been,
Abs Lalu & Elle Perairs.

P.S: For those of you who don't live in India, Gulab Jamun is an Indian sweet that will make your heart sigh. (Look at us. Acting like we have readers all over the world)
P.P.S: We actually, quite literally did this over chat and Google Hangouts. Do y'all have a friendship this amazing? We think not. (Forgive us, we have no social life.)

Two Sides Collide.

I have faith. I lack belief.
I have hope. Hopelessness overwhelms me.
I am alive. I am dead within
I breathe. I am crushed with suffocation.

I deserve better. I am not worthy.
I live. Only barely.
I am happy. Grief engulfs me.
I laugh. Will my silent sore tears,
Ever leave me be?

I love you.
Do I?
Please don't leave me. Stay away, step aside.
I forgive you.
Can I?
I am newly whole. Torn up inside.
I am ready.
Am I?

I am willing. I am terrified.


I hold onto angels. My soul, demons embrace.

Dear Love.

Dear Love,
I know it's been a while since we talked. I've been avoiding you because, honestly, I took a disliking to you. See I was under the impression that you had done me wrong. I let myself believe that you were this wrathful hellish emotion that wanted to leave me with nothing but a shattered heart. You hurt me once, how could I trust that you would not do it again? I cut you off, blocked you out for the sole reason that I wanted to live without you.

I must admit, I was fine for a while. Or at least that's what I kept telling myself. I didn't need you, I didn't want you. Envy, pride, Recklessness, they were all so much better than you ever were. I was better off without you.

One day, however something went wrong. Out of nowhere, I began to miss you. To need you. Reminiscing the feeling of loving and being loved overwhelmed me to a point where, all I could think about was you. I still didn't say it though. I was still stubborn enough to not let you in again.

It took me a while but eventually I realized, that you were not to blame. You weren't the one who hurt me. You tried to make it better, and I being myself, didn't quite comprehend your actions. I let the age old stereotype of 'love is painful and irrational' change my mindset.

See, what I did Love, was mistake you for Grief. I didn't think to distinguish between you two. I didn't think that it was Grief that sneaked it's way in and made you look like the culprit. When I think about the memories you gave me, all I recall is being the happiest I've EVER been. I was in love, I was loved. I was wanted, needed. I made someone happy at the mere thought of my existence, just as my heart did numerous double takes at the thought of them. I was somebody's person and they were mine. And nothing, could shake that feeling off.

Then when things went wrong and Grief set in, I thought it was you.
When Grief brought me down to my knees on a bathroom floor, I thought it was you.
When Grief took every ounce of strength I had, and put it into frequent sobs on the side of my pillow case, I though it was you.
When Grief made me believe that I would not be in this state, had I kept my heart caged and protected, I thought it was you.

When Grief left me with nothing, but make-belief solace at the bottom of a bottle, I thought it was you.

Grief, tore me and broke me and ripped every ounce of my self-worth and all that time...all that time I thought I was you.
And I hated you for it.
I swore to never let you in again, because I never wanted to feel that pain again.

People often do that, don't they? Mix up Love with Grief and then preach to the whole world, that love is painful, and overrated. It isn't love that leaves one broken and bruised, it's the idea of losing it. The pain of losing it. The grief that comes with the departure of something you hold extremely close to your heart.

Dear Love,
I'm sorry. I miss you. I miss that feeling. The positivity that I was invincible, that came with you. I miss being someone's person. I miss having my own.

Dear love,
I'm terrified at the prospect of loving again. I'm terrified of you. I'm terrified of letting you in again. But I'm ready. When Grief sweeps in, trying to sabotage our relationship, I will not give up. I am ready.

Dear Love,

I am ready.