I Miss You

-

Ash was flying, the fire was growing, and the siren was blaring when a man discovered a slightly damaged laptop on the table. There was a sole tab opened that was Gmail and there was a draft message in it which says,

"Hi, I know we haven't talk and see each other in a while, but I still remember your eyes, your little smirk when someone makes you irritated and that's why I miss you. Somedays I don't miss you for a single second and some nights I can't sleep without holding your pinkie finger but still I remember you every second I breath and that's why I miss you. Sometimes I want to kiss you, but not just your soft lips but every scar of yours which you've got from your childhood because I know they are more sensitive then your lips and I want to protect them all and that's why I miss you. And I wish I wouldn't done such things so that I wasn't missing you and you'll be sitting right here on my lap hugging me after your hectic day. And how you tell me to switch off the gas stove knob everytime I forget it, and looks like once again I've forgot to turn it off and maybe that's why I miss you. And now when I look back I see that how easy it is to forget love but the life is to keep remembering that love and it's not regret because we had our own reasons to forget it and before these reasons I hope You Miss Me Too. And now lemme just check the gas stove."

Comments

  1. H.E.RJune 8, 2024 at 11:06 AM

    Man has two great gifts: 'words' to give sound to thoughts, and 'writing' to give thoughts meaning forever and you know how to use these two gifts perfectly 🙌🏻

    ReplyDelete
  2. DevyanzoidJune 8, 2024 at 11:43 AM

    Thank you so much for such a beautiful comment, it'll literally make me keep going and thanks for being their.🌻

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Hope : A short story

-
The last page of the diary turned and the man starts writing, "how foolish we humans are that, we fall for the things that we know won't be possible for us, just like a dead soldier's wife waiting for her husband's letter, just like a son is longing for his dead father to come by one day. But these are the things which keeps one alive which we call 'hope,' which makes a dead person alive for others, and isn't it beautifully foolish how a thing which cannot be happen makes one alive in a different manner, for instance, I'm on my deathbed, falling in love with life .
Read more

Last Love

-
The story is about to end, you are my last love . I still remember the last time she left the house, I was consoling her, she was crying, she knows that I was doing it on purpose but didn't asked me the reason. That was her thing, she never asked me the reason why I'm doing such things because she knows that I had reasons for doing it, then she came close to me and slowly hugged me and listen to my heartbeat, it was very fast but when she hugged me tightly it seems like the moment had stopped. And in this moment it was only me and her and the sound of the clock. She was holding her tears, and slowly I put my fingers beneath her chin and pull up her face and for the last time kiss her on the forehead, then she left. The house was still smelling with her perfume and then I saw our bed where she was lying on it with his turtle with her favourite blue "Calvin Klein" pushup bra with white border and her damaged baggy jeans, but now it was just me and her turtle, and then e...
Read more

A letter to Emilie

-
Hey Emilie, I know that you never had a hero in your sky although you have eyes like a fallen star, I know that you don't like to celebrate your birthday but you have kept the necklace that your mother gave you on your 17th birthday, I know that you love late night talking but you also love the early morning tea, I know you are a good listener but you also need a listener at the end of the day. And I also know that it's your career which has taken you so far from me, but I have kept your kindergarten scrapbook, your first certificate from art competition, your first piggy bank by your grandmother, your first essay about your father, and some memories, whenever you'll come, just sit and we'll talk about them with two cups of tea under the stars.
Read more