Someone Special Introspection !

Writing has always made me feel revived. But at certain point of time every writer has to face the “Now what?” anxiety of the blank page. These past couple of days has been pretty rough and when today after so many days I sat to write I found this anxiety so nerving. Even the thoughts that I don't have any thoughts that I can assemble in form of the words was killing me. Every time I have used this nerving anxiety to write about you. It isn’t that I can’t write about something else but there is so much desire to write about you that every time I stare at the blank page of mine and write any word, every words somehow traces its written origin back to you. So perhaps this time too it’s all about you. Following heart when mind is blank has been my ritual while writing but Some Special Introspections was never a thing that I did.

When I started blogging back in 2011 since than this is the 80^th post I’m writing out of which this one is the 70^th times I’m writing about you. Does this makes you someone special? or is it me that protagonize you in my writing. But back then I don't have a reason why it just happened, as words for you come crashing out of me like a gospel, In alibis and promises. I know my writing have never been perfect (and I'm miserable at best forget about perfections) but so neither have you been. Falling in love with perfect things is so easy isn't it? Everybody does because there you don't have to worry about it. I'm not in a habit of judging people and I never do, but one thing I have learnt “It’s never about finding perfection. It's all about making things better”. Given an option to write about myself I would not able to write even single page. Oh what another fine mess I have got myself into. Sometimes this makes me wonder do I exist or I’m merely an extension of your soul living outside of you?  

Every moments I live I do some trade off, actually we all do. It's such a strange to find out that people you know so well is now a total stranger. Strange that sometime I spend my whole day without even thinking about you. Isn't that a good thing? Most of the times I let myself to forget because it’s easier, but then I find something and the full weight of your memories comes back, crashing me under the weight.  It’s past 4 AM and I’m scrolling back our conversation to see pieces of you, shaped in words and sentences drawn from your lips blessed with succulency. Yes that much I have grown to love your words, they are like honeydew on morning daisies. You’re beautiful more than your hazel eye about which I have never stopped saying. Tonight if I write I could write about you and your strange beautiful heart I could’ve written in words engraved over sapphire bound with emerald and kissed upon with a mesh of rubies and pearls. But that’s the problem with someone always being on your mind, someone finding a permanent place in your heart; you can’t do anything without thinking about them, you think her name, you see her face; somehow you always manage to rewire my brain into a white noise that I can never escape except always felling you in my mind, In bits and pieces, In fragments, In every words sitting here that I’m writing on you on wet pages of even wet journal while it’s raining here.  

I exist for you
So I Live in words
and write for you
but somehow, my whispers,
in the darked dusted breeze,
under the sheen of the trembling
moon becomes lost
and just like the sea shells
every time it wash away into oblivion.

P.S- My apologize to all the people whose post i haven't been able to read from last 15 days.