Forever ago

(a song to accompany this post:)

It’s a melancholic night in exactly a week after I turned 23 in the company of people I love most. Just a week, but feels like forever ago.

Reading status updates of my eager juniors in college excitedly talking about first days of classes, discussing what to wear to the infamous annual major party, bitching about schoolwork. Graduation was 3 month back, but feels like forever ago.

Saw your face upon arrival, suitcases scattered all over the place, handbag slipping off weak shoulder, you smiled your warm glowing smile. I was so in love, but feels like forever ago.

Drunken night by the lake, throwing pebbles off the dock, freezing my ass off in the company of similarly happy tipsy people, exchanging scandalous stories and ambitious life goals. Can remember vividly how hard I partied but working just as hard in the library the day after, but these memories feel like forever ago.

Eagerly awaiting your Skype calls, sour conversations, dim yellow light by bedside, pouring my entire heart out to a pixelated image on my computer screen, falling asleep and waking up to see that you’ve left. I used to do this everyday, but feels like forever ago.

We used to laugh and love so hard, cry and scream, hurt and be hurt, promise and break promises, smile and hope. We used to be happy, but it all feels like forever ago.

Kept trying, fixing, mending, building and destroying and rebuilding and redestroying. We both knew we couldn’t continue fixing what’s already been broken, but we exhausted ourselves and kept trying anyway. I thought I could fix you, and you me, but we came out of this more damaged than ever. The promises of a better tomorrow still ring in my head, but they feel like forever ago.

Today all the forever agos came to me like rude uninvited interrupting guests, their presence so heavy and yet so unimportant, so abrupt and yet so planned. I was certain that if I stared harder into the distance and pretended that I was no longer thinking about them then they’d leave. They didn’t. Then I stopped trying to pretend, and they left as swiftly as they came.