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An Open Letter To The One Who Is Mine

Hey you,

I'm as surprised as you are. At this juncture, not much could have gotten me back to writing, but here I am. You said you always wondered what it would feel like to be at the receiving end of one of these. Well, pay attention, and tell me later.

You remember the first few times we spoke after years? Somewhere along the line, I told you, we're all born writers and romantics, and that, life gets in the way. Guess what? A few months ago, life did get in the way. So much so, that I was left neither a writer, nor a romantic, and that sucked. I've had my low points in life, but I figured I'd always be the kind of person who would keep their faith. Until, I didn't. That's where you came in.

Not many people buy my sentimental rambling, you know? Some people listen to it, others tolerate it. They even humor me occasionally. But you, you breath of fresh air. You know that feeling when you're standing on a platform and a really fast train passes by? It knocks the wind out of you, and jolts you back to life. That is what falling for you felt like. I always joked about getting a sneak peek into the mind of the guy from school.. To my privilege, you let me in, and once you did, I wanted to never leave. And luckily enough for me, you didn't pass me by.

Right about this time a year ago, I had no idea how fortunate I was going to get. And half a year later, I didn't realize what I was going to give up on. But you narrated my dream back to me, in action instead of words. You fought with me for me, and you held on, even when I let go. And today, today we're the happiest we have ever been. Today, I'm grateful. And there are probably a lot more cheerier things that I can talk about today. But you know what?

If I could go back in time and relive that night, there's no way in hell I'd spend that time watching a movie I don't even remember anymore. No, I'd go home. I'd see all the stuff I left behind. I'd see my study table, where I spent countless hours flipping through pages in a desperate attempt to outrank you. I'd sit on my old couch and smell the delicious dinner Ma was cooking. I'd talk to Pa and watch a game of badminton together. I'd go meet my friends and watch them bicker about the latest song that was out. But none of those things would be the thing I'd do first. You know the thing I'd do first? I'd run up to your place, and knock on your door. And I'd tell you that everything I am about to do in the next few days will be a big, shortsighted mistake. We'd recover from it, but all of that would be forty-five days away. But I'd be there then, because I'd want those extra forty-five days with you, each one of them. And if I couldn't have them, I'd take the forty-five seconds before you shut the door. Because I love you. I'm always going to love you. I know you have your occasional days where you doubt it, but you'll see.

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