The Idea of You

By Swarnali Patra.

I watch the stars and wonder how the tiniest particles in them are perpetually fighting, colliding, scuffling to glimmer. How we settle for the little that we get to see because of our proclivity for ease- one of our many vices. I wonder if people have the binaries of ideas that result in normative or divergent mental syntheses, too. I wonder, what is your fight: strawberry or chocolate? Figures or words? Wet pillow or a frozen soul? Paris or Switzerland? Christian Grey or a vanilla boy? I wonder because I believe that we are all stardust and this space between us is the interstellar space and when the right strings of the universe are strum, I think of you. I don’t know your name and your face is painted by Picasso in my mind, but I know you are out there. I know you lost your mother- someone so close, someone whose name you have cried out so loud hoping she’ll hear you out in some parallel universe; your muffled screams are what silence the night. That’s why I’m here.

Maybe I am made to give you the love that shouldn’t have been taken away from you so soon. I know you have been abandoned and you have hated it so much and you have probably blamed yourself for it until you found solace in books. I know you have wondered what could you have possible done to be abandoned- we all do. I know your first question to the universe is, “why me?” And the damn universe just doesn’t come up with a good enough answer. I know you’ve contemplated the whereabouts of the person, the people who have made your frail little heartache. Maybe I am designed to feel the guilt so that you can lash out on me and know that the ones who have abandoned you never really deserved to hear you say that you love chocolates in that childish voice or know that you are so beautiful.

I’ve never seen strength in innocence until my mind wandered into your implausible territories to find that you are unbreakable. How you retained that frail snowflake of innocence when that douche broke your heart, took advantage of it! How you found your peace in a different home and called books your ultimate epiphany! You beat the universe with your brain and I know that behind the veil of numerals and theories, you wanted forever an alchemical love. I know that you came across so many men like me whom you thought were “the one.” You are a child at heart with a mind of a genius – that’s lethal and I don’t blame you for ending up with someone like me, but there is a reason why we seem like your kryptonite- we destroy people. Cold, debauched, robotic narcissists under the cover of realists who caved into all that you have been wading through.

Maybe I exist to fix the damage done to you so that you do not have to go to bed with mascara smeared cheeks and wake up with bloodshot eyes from looking for answers at the bottom of a glass. Maybe I exist to bend the strings of the universe so that you know that you deserve so much better than the asshole who takes you for his tangible territory. You are not meant to gratify his ego or be his slave in sac. You don’t have to settle for in the name of love because you are loved by someone who doesn’t know your name or your face or even what your favorite song is. Maybe you are my daughter, my friend, my lover, my twin flame from another time or another dimension. Maybe I am meant to rest silently in your shadow and to grow so that your light doesn’t burn you out or wear you down. Maybe my one shot at selflessness is you – even if it means you end up with the love of my life because you deserve love more than any of us. If only the universe could lay its strings right, I wouldn’t be in love with the idea of you, but the real you.


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