February 10th, 2015.

Numbers are easy to remember and so are some words. We use them everyday- But some words and numbers have meanings attached to them, subjective experiences and objective observations. Like the day and the month you were born and the number of the year, a time when something amazing happened or something terrible. Memories.

I was going to bed that I saw the date and it was one of those moments when I forget what day or date I am in, 10th of February and my heart hit 140, like it did on the 3rd, on the 5th and the 7th. I had thought to myself not to think of it but today the things that I am not sure to share with myself or others, roamed free.

“You left your chapstick here.”

I had found it cleaning my room, ‘Music’ was in the name. You were frustrated when you realized and I wondered how did it escape you unnoticed- now and then it was next to your lips. I had told you that I’ll have it sent back to you but what you told me after hit supernova in my chest. I remembered 2010 and I remembered you breaking down after the first time we met.

“Throw it in the trash.”

When I left for the bus I lied to step dad, I told him I had forgotten the wallet but I wasn’t sure if I had your lip balm. It had traveled 210 miles with me but I sneaked it in your closet. I’ll never know why I was scared and why moments like these leave marks on me, the hickeys you gave only stayed for a week and that was an irony.

“Remember Sakina?”

I kept looking ahead and from my shoulder I could see you staring at me, your legs folded up in the seat and I believed I was dreaming- you looked at me the same way the first time we traveled together. I turned to you and only a nod escaped me. I wanted to tell you more but I didn’t when you leaned on my shoulder and held my hand. I remembered you told me they were soft.

We took our first pictures together and you didn’t like yourself in them- it was a first, that I didn’t care and thought you looked lovely- that was my core, it was my bias.

“Shut up! Shut up! SHUT UP!”

It was also a first when I realized what a breakdown meant, Some people kept crying and others kept screaming. It felt good to lose control, my body wasn’t mine anymore. And from then on out it felt bad- “You don’t have to scream” I don’t hope that I’ll forget those words. I knew I had jumped from a ridge and doomed myself but I was alive when you slept and I sat next to you. I tried to trace my hand on your cheek but my fingers kept burning, the tears didn’t make it easy- I hid a note in your notebook and then I held you.

I didn’t dump that locket, I hid it because I was hurt.

“Your birthday is coming soon”

Money, should there be words to describe currency? You texted me your headphones had broken and you didn’t want to spend money on good ones. I told you your birthday was coming soon, you shock your head and smiled and then you asked me a question you had asked before,

“Why do you do things like that?”

I wish I could have just texted back “February 10th.”

—–

Sometimes I wonder leaning my head against the wall and weep but before anything I remember your hands reach mine, the look in your eyes- our first waltz. I remember your scent on me but I can’t remember your voice. I remember the lovely look on your face when you woke up on our last morning. Some nights my fingers trace over the sheets, others nights you’re in my dreams. Everyday I see numbers and words and everything you are brushes past me.

It’s 10th of February.It’s your birthday.
And I hope today not single moment passes you by without happiness.

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About Haris

I've never seen myself as a writer but sometimes words just flow out of my fingers.
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6 Responses to February 10th, 2015.

  1. Umair Rehman says:

    That’s very deep and sad. Though life moves on yet somehow we manage to bring that box of memories with us and when it gets opened, it just makes us sad again. Takes us to the zone where we start thinking with ‘what if’ and when we get returned from that zone, we’re more doomed.

    • Haris says:

      I understand- But one needs to learn to reminisce instead of becoming nostalgic. Memory is a treasure, the much moments you make the much richer you are.

      I admit there were sad bits in it but I was quite happy with what I remembered.

  2. Aw, this strikes the cords so deep, churns the gut and heart, =)

    Misery loves company, join along, lol.

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