to all the women I've loved

there was once an inseparable bond. Multiple times if I'm honest, each stronger than the previous, or so I was made to feel. And yet today, as I write this, memories fade me. 

I remember that bench in Delhi, where I first spoke my heart out, and without realizing too. We were each others comfort sofas, as she called it. The second time, a familiarity seeped in, as life's meaning, the mundane in all it's essence were discussed day and night. There was excitement the third time, and calm, through adventures, one too many. And the most recent, where a sense of being was felt in all it's beauty, as cross border conversations turned into singing, through the streets of old Edinburgh.

But the rest of it, and so much too, is all blurry. 

I remember pushing thoughts away, of the happier times, of the simpler times, because it was no longer simple. A discomfort almost. What began as a conscious effort, slowly, unknowingly translated into a natural state. A state where she, and they were just people to me, or so I believed. 

But they can never just be people.

Today, it takes a picture —that Google Photos ever so often drops into my phone —to remind me of what once used to be. What we once used to be. Perhaps this is what a broken heart, mine, and theirs wanted at one point — to leave it all behind, for it to be just a distant memory. A person forgotten. 

But once in a while, that very picture, warms my heart, bringing with it a sense of gratitude. I don't and perhaps won't feel or convey it ever-so-often, but deep down, I'll always wish well, for you..

For even though there's a wall between us, I've left a part of me with them. And a piece of their heart continues to stay with me, and with every heart-beat, their memory stays on..