Tuesday, May 06, 2014

Stitched Strings

Dear Mind,

Last time when we met one another, there were no strings attached. You have witnessed everything. I am today just pouring myself out. You remember first time. She was at an Opticians shop, trying new glasses. That geeky spectacles on her made her more reliable person than she truly is. I always wanted her to read me through my poetry and stories. She played a major role in my writings. And obviously, she knows that. That night I was crossing by the shop, when she saw me. She called me up, and I was astonished on that. A few chit chats and she selected her pair of spectacles. To my another surprise, she asked for my notebook of Poetry and Stories. I could not be happy more. I gave her my notebook to my world, and she liked stories and poetry. She even recognized the story involving her. A realm in the stories involved her, all she had to do is relive that in real life. I was looking for a Friend, to laugh loud again.
But, misunderstanding played another mysterious role between Us. She could not get enough replies from Me, I could not get enough smiles anymore. We broke apart. She stayed alive, but dead under the skin. She still snick in the proses and poems I write. It's been almost two weeks since last we talked. Yes, I do Miss her. But I miss more of Me, that she took tearing me into pieces. She will stay in my stories as a Character. There is no Death of Real Character in Fiction World. That's how writer's play with Life. Strings supposed to be attached by knot. One can try stitching as well. Stitching stay longer than knots. But this time, no strings actually stitched. All I request you today, please stay close to me. You know me, I don't have mind to think on life again.

From Heart.

A letter from a broken heart to his beloved friend Mind.

Note: A work of Fiction involves stories, surrounding reality.