Coastline.

It's been a while since I spoke to you.
Say things I've wanted to.
Listen to what you have to say.
Chances are I wouldn't tell you anything out of the ordinary.
Neither would you come up with something I didn't already know.
We know each other too well for that.
Like the waves in the ocean, skimming the surface, not quite interacting with the dark waters, right at the bottom.
Yet somehow, fully versed with what every little, magnificent drop has to offer.
It's beautiful no?
Our relationship?


I'm aware of what reaction every little action would illicit from you.
There's something comforting in the knowledge that I can gauge, time and eventually smile an understanding smile.
The power that some invisible force of nature rendered to you, which enables you to reach out to me, before you really even do, is fascinating. 
I'm struck with wonder at the enormity of our emotions.
Strangely enough, we don't feel the same things.
If I tasted sour, you tasted sweet.
If I leaned in, you stood strong, ready to embrace me.
If I danced to self-composed tunes, you projected two left feet.
If you said North, I'd run South.
And such was how we lay perfect in our imperfections.


You were the white light passing through a prism, forced to burst into a spectacular array of shining colors. That was me.
Blinding all, with the brilliance of my joy. Happiness that was tangible.
We lent this inconceivable energy to the air around us, and forgot all about the prism.
Naturally it's lost now.
Allowing you to remain the seamless white light you always were, originating from nothingness. 
And me? Forget colors, grey or even white. I'm nothing.
Not a form of energy. Not of matter.


But let bygones be bygones. 
Today, as I watch you sitting diagonally across me, I wonder in amazement, how things change.
I don't feel hollow anymore. 
Something feels like it's been healed. And that's what's odd.
I didn't know what broke in the first place.
Of course, even now I can't jerk the wound. It needs its time.


I still look at you with affection, and know it's not love, but to me you're still a child that needs to be protected.
I know that that too will eventually change, and it has to, but I'm happy now, and I'm not thinking. Because I'm ready for whatever is next.
With you, or without you, I guess it'll have to do.
I have finally learnt that when there's somebody else looking out for it and relying on it, that is reason enough to smile.


Until then, I'll keep washing the shores, while you kiss the sea-bed, and when on a nostalgic night, the moon decides to boast, the tides will change, a storm will ensue, and who knows? We may just meet. Even if it's amidst the roiling waters...