When You Left This Is What You Took Away With You That Has Broken Me So Bad


You took away with you that little idea in my mind of how life is supposed to be. You took away with you the days I spent with you in my imagination out in the sun playing with the kids we were supposed to have. You took away the nights we were to spend in ecstasy lying hand in hand.

You took away with me the desire to be better at everything your partner-checklist had. You took away all those meals we would have cooked together in our kitchen messing with each other and not caring about how dirty the shelves and the floor is turning to be.

You took away comfort out of those sad nights I dread I might have in future, where you were supposed to be my side if I was to lose a dear one. How will I ever cope with that now? You took away with you the will that I had every morning when you were here with me, to wake up and look good for you; to cross the long distance between my bed and the cafe where I was supposed to meet you. And how that bed pulls me now with all its might…with a thousand strong magnets in its sheets that hold me as tight as you were supposed to…in a parallel universe…where we were together.

You took away everything bright and serene that I was yet to find in life with you, everything that was supposed to stretch my lips from each tip and turn them into a dazzling smile on my poker face when the going would get tough. You took away with you so many of my wish-lists…places I wanted to visit with you, restaurants I wanted to go to with you, love I wanted to make to you, moments I wanted to share with you… You took away vivid yellow ombre lights of those scented candles that were supposed to guide your way to me whenever you came home from a long tiring day…

Remember how I told you there’s an empty, scratched, torn piece in my existence that I could almost feel slowly filling up with your lame jokes, your tender touch and that stupid song you sang once to cheer me up…guess what, that’s hollow again…you took all that away and returned my melancholy to me; a goodbye gift from you to me. Only that I could have never, in a million years thought that a gift could hurt this much. Why couldn’t you just take away that melancholia with you?

And you know how there is a small part of bliss in everyone’s life, where you’re just supposed to be so happy that it actually hurts your physical immortal being to laugh so loud, to scream with delight, to jump up and down your bed and eat ice-cream in heaps… guess I’ll never have that. You want to know why? Because you just took all that away with you.

You know what else you took away with you? Me. You took away me from me and not in a ‘oh-so-romantic’ way. But in a forceful, ‘tearing-away-million-pieces-of-me’ way! Like a monster who’d never listen to any of the pleas made his way. Like a sadistic thief who steals you, not of your possessions, but of that sparkle from your eyes knowing how hard it was for you already to muster that tiny bit of sparkle all your life.

So, next time when you visit, and find me torn apart, lying helplessly on the floor, with my face in my hands and with nothing but the warmth of my tears to comfort me, please don’t ask me one more time… what you took away with you that has broken me so bad.