Nine Hours

When the man I love left me , even for some nine hours , I remember my search to find the the darkest place in delhi where I could just sit and think was eating me alive ...first time the idea of death was easy, tears were easy, and there was something more ...I recall of not being able to breathe...

I was not crying because of a fight but the feeling of not making it tighten around me.I was thirsty but I didnt needed water , I was shivering but I didnt needed a jacket.All I wanted was to survive the pain....

I was scared of not making it....not coming out alive , I remember I kept walking fast in order to live and I knew I won't be able to keep up any longer .

I needed his warmth , I wanted him to hold me , to come and save me...it was first time I realized , I won't be able to live without him..love did found a living chord; between my ability to live and beating of his heart...

This is not a emotional outburst or any sort of disgusting way to announce that I need help or I am psychotic ....but how many real us go through same problem...somebody goes away from life and our abilities to move forward just vanishes out of our lives; ....we either become great philosophers; or bad poets or even worse neurotics.

And its not easy, no songs or promises of friends or support of family can save your heart from being ripped apart ...pain becomes part of your life , nothing makes you stronger , everything keeps falling apart .

And no words of getting healed ..or surviving trauma can make you widely appreciated .Everything that I can understood in those 9 hrs was that he was imprinted on me , making it without him was futile in life . I remember he calling me and my heart started beating again , as if my soul came back in my body, I could try walking now...

So what is I am getting at , what if he wouldn't have come back? , what if I had to live without him?

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