I have always had a knack for falling for the wrong people, trusting empty bunches of things they promised, and holding on to nothing a little too tight.

It was since then that I began to fear words. I built a fortress around myself and decided to shut the fuck up no matter what I felt.

But the other night, you stood before me, smiling, with the key to the rusty casket I’d locked my heart in. I was so sure nobody could ever find it. And, then, I knew this was anything but ordinary. You were anything but ordinary. And for the first time in what seems like a forever, I wasn’t afraid to lay myself bare before someone, to let him graze his fingers against my unclad wounds.

You know, sometimes, as I watch you look at me, with four hundred miles and a phone screen between us, I can’t help but wonder how you can’t deserve all the love that there is in this world. Sometimes, at 1:37 in the night, I want to promise you an infinity. But I don’t want to play the prodigal lover who took a swig from a bottleful of mawkishness and breathed out a bunch of empty words that froze in time. And, I still fear words. And now that things have begun to fall in place after an eternity, I don’t want to screw up. Again.

But, trust me, love, every night when you sound a little hurt, I cry a little inside and pray a little more, for you.

Every time when you find no light at the end of the tunnel, love, you will find me at your door, holding a jar full of fireflies in my hands.

Every time you feel a little lonely, I will build a home next to yours, and love you in languages you know not, forever and a day extra.

Every time you feel a little lost, we’ll look for our way home together, following the little maps stretched across our palms.

Every time you feel a little broken, I will give you a little of me, to fit into your broken places and even your fatal edges.

Every time you feel like giving up, I’ll take your hand and run for a detour and we’ll look for seashells in autumn-struck leaves and our faces in the clouds, till you begin to believe in magic again.

Every night you feel a little sleepless, I’ll make sure we joke till the sunrise.

Every time you feel a little breathless, I’ll harbour love in your lungs.

And even if you don’t feel like talking, I’ll make sense out of the silence.

And even if you hurt me, I’ll write it down to narrate to my grandchildren how emotions have speed but love has endurance.

And even if you feel like leaving, love, I’d look after your pets, long after you’re gone.

I still fear making homes out of people, but, love, I need you to know this: no matter where I drift with time, I will stop my ships by you tonight, and tomorrow’s night, and every night after that.

But I can’t stay all this, I never will, for I still fear words.

Promises are but shouts in the void, a fistful of words that hang mid-air— static—never assuming shape and vanishing like puffs of smoke. And I won’t do that to you. I don’t know what tomorrow has in store for us, and quite honestly, I don’t care. Forever fades away very easily but we’ll have our extra day.

– Rohan babber
Haldia Institute Of Technology

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