I have always hated calling you that. Why can’t the word ‘half’ just disappear the way you do whenever the word relationship breaches our space. Maybe things are that way. Maybe they shall forever be. But then, I wonder you are not going to stay single forever, right?
There comes my insecurity.
You lock up my heart in the cage of your smile. And I am the willing prisoner who is happy with his sentence. But when does the sentence end? When do I get to reside in your heart the way you do in mine?
Just as few things are always left unsaid, this too is one.
Do you remember the day when it rained? There have been many rainy days, but that one was special. That day has its own narrative. I know you do, but you still try to behave as if nothing happened. You do remember, don’t you?
You were carefree, as always. I love it that way, where you don’t contain yourself and just be who you are, drenching in the rain, unlike the others hiding under their umbrella. For once, I too had the urge to escape the shadow of sensibility, and match your steps in the rain. But before I could do that, it was you who snatched my umbrella from me. You knew you had that right, right? To do whatever you wished to because I would happily adhere to all of your wishes.
I ran behind you. I could have overcome you. But I wanted you to win. I have always loved to see your happiness when you overpower me. Watching you smile in the rain sent a strange feeling to my heart. I thought I too had the right I gave you. That was the impulse that drove me to hold your hand. The same way you once held mine, while watching ‘The Conjuring 2.’ You never asked if you could hold me, you just did. You had that right. I still remember that touch.
But this touch overpowers that sensation. Though wet with rain, it felt like velvet. Rain, that day, had a strange way of mixing the aroma of romance out of nowhere with my friendship. Maybe it was just me who felt it that way. But the way you looked at me. I wasn’t the only one. You never resisted. I would have left you on a slight inconvenience of yours, believe me.I pulled you towards me on the street where there were no souls but us, drenching in the rain, drifting from the bond of friendship to something else entirely. I wish I could call that love. It was love for me. But I still have no clue what it was for you.
Your chest pressed against mine. I could feel your heart beat. It was fast. We were that close. Close enough to break that bond of friendship we had. If only our lips were sealed, maybe we could have dived into the oceans of love.
Alas, you withdrew.
I couldn’t pull you back again and kiss you. I am not the one who would force you. If you would have done the same, probably I would have easily succumbed to your will. I wish things would have happened that way. And I wouldn’t need to write this letter to you.
We are still great friends. Or say we are way more than that. We watch movies together. Share the same coke and platter. You easily pull one of my earphones and plug it in yours. You know my phone’s password. Scroll through my personal messages, which aren’t hidden from you at all. You get curious on every other girl’s text and set up a scrutiny as if you are my girlfriend. I wish you were. I would have loved the way you get jealous. I just wish! You hold my hand, still. Even after that day, when we could have, never mind.
A relationship exists between us. Unfortunately, it’s neither of friendship nor of love, but somewhere in between. It’s torturous, really torturous. It’s difficult for me, to contain all of it within myself that the rain had unleashed that day. But then, I don’t want to lose the very thing we have, the very thing that has kept holding me on to you in a relationship where you are my half-girlfriend.
You read the book and gave yourself that term. I have always hated that word, where you are mine, but only half. It sounds funny but isn’t. I still look forward to that day, where you are mine and not half but full. It’s funny again but isn’t. For, the heart knows the true pain when you have someone and you don’t at the same time.
Till then, this letter, just like many others, shall be shelved in a secret folder whose password even you don’t know until the day you become mine, fully this time. It’s funny again, but trust me, it isn’t.