Quagmire
‘I wish I’d spent more time with you’
I keep on thinking about what you said to me. Even tonight I fail to believe you could have done any more than you already did. I told you so.
I, on the other hand, would not trade anything, not even a moment, even in exchange of more. The future does give a better perspective of things in the past. Every thing we did, everything we said, everything we didn’t say, has a justified reason somewhere, however, small, minute it may sound, the fact is-it was just.
At times, even your return does only qualify for redemption. Redemption of things which you thought went ugly, correction of facts which otherwise shouldn’t have existed, more time, more attention, more pleasure. And wouldn’t the ‘more’ lead to ‘much’ pain? On whose side, has never been the argument between us.
The whole process of erasing and rewriting seems to be taking place. Washing away the old names only to be written in a different handwriting; why do we forget that waves of time would anyhow swallow them! They’d be gone, again, forever.
The fact is we would never change. Only you and me will!
And the madness was there-intact-but what made the difference was that there was no need of hiding it or even showing it, for they both knew each other well enough, to be scared, to care and to pretend everything would burn down to the philosophy they shared, the jokes they cracked, the nostalgia they suffered and the love they just won’t get into!
