how can these twenty-six letters
carry all the love i have for you. how do i make you feel
an inch of this gigantic universe you’ve built in me.

i miss you.
i miss you so much that it physically hurts not talking to you.

yet i do not know where to begin.
where our talks used to be carefree, long, simple, now they are
strained, soft, sad. this distance finally feels like the million miles it is,
the familiar feeling of you in the next room suddenly faded.

you used to make me laugh.

you used to say those special sacred words
and i’d beam and light up like a Christmas tree for weeks. i’d dance
listening to our favorite songs and daydream in locked rooms
and keep those words like a shrine in my heart.

i could repeat them to strangers on the street,
you are my favorite author and my best friend.

why does being in love with you hurt this much?

i just want to pack all this love i have for you in a suitcase
so this hurt doesn’t feel like it’s infiltrating, oozing into the cracks
of my soul. your words have lost their meaning, dearest.
i am not that special.

i am not the girl you miss at 2pm when you are swamped
with work. or the reason why you’d anxiously check your phone
every hour. i am not the girl you think about when a love song
comes on the radio or the girl you want to kiss more than anything
else in the world. i’m not the reason you smile to yourself
and i’m not the name that makes you tender and safe and glad.

it feels like the fuse box has gone off and now the only person
i could have depended on is the reason why i am sitting in the dark.
i miss you. and i wish my heart didn’t feel so blocked, aching and
full of words it can’t get out.

i thought i could love you from a distance without attachments
but i can’t help feeling so small and helpless and hurt. when one day
you are going to tell me about her and how you kissed her and it felt
like everything you’ve wanted in a lifetime was in those few minutes
with her, i hope i’ll be somewhere far off in a universe where
it would have felt like the ache of missing every train in my life.

maybe i need some time to get there, to the other side when i can
truly let you go. when i fell in love with you, it was for everything you were;
with every twenty six letters of the alphabet that we shared

but now it feels like i need more,
like i need more letters so you’d understand the dull aching pain
of loving someone who doesn’t love you back.


on the other side of the postcard.

nothing in this world is certain;
so what can be said of you or me
i want all my tomorrows to begin with you
yet i know even this could be my last breath

so i’d like to tell you if ever you chance upon this read
i have always loved you, it seems, even before our time
and i am certain that between us is an unbreakable thread
that traverses our destinies and unites our souls

you’d scoff at me if i told you i had woken up some nights
with your name on my lips, every fiber of my being terrified
that i’d lost you- the feeling of losing you so familiar-
as if our goodbyes have surpassed our beginnings countless times

i hope you find love, dearest
it’s funny- so long i’d thought it mattered you loved me
and now i realize it doesn’t. all i desire is your happiness,
is for you to feel too, the electricity of love

the way it makes you hope against hope,
place faith in helpless things, find beginnings amongst endings.

she is lucky, you know. she has all her tomorrows with you.

i’m glad for our little dreams, our yesterdays,
i’m glad for the goodbyes because they gave me a hello with you
and i know tomorrow is but a dream, and i keep writing letters to you
that you’ll never read-

like writing letters to an astronaut i’m in love with-

but i love you.

it’s a little shout into the countless galaxies between us
that i love you in the way the sun loves the moon;
distantly quietly softly amongst shadows
without names or possesions.

i hope you find love; i hope you find all your beginnings
someday send me a postcard, i’ll let you know
my beginnings too.


letting go;

i am not writing sad poems about you anymore
there is a loveliness in letting go;

there is beauty in setting free something so wonderful as you

when you are out there with me only as a distant reminder
know i’ll always remember you, always wishing the best for you.
and when you are out there change as many lives as you can
the way you did with me.

i hope you meet a girl who makes you believe in love.
i hope you realize it is worth it.

i was wrong when i said love isn’t worth much because i loved you.
and believe me, it was worth it.

so i hope you find all the happiness in this world
and all the answers to the questions we’ve asked and i hope one day
we’d know if our lives turned out the way we dreamt.

send me a postcard sometime.

so when you go, close the door behind you, i’ll clear up this space
you left behind somehow. i’ll still write letters to you but
i probably wouldn’t have your address and you won’t have mine.

there is a loveliness in letting go, there is something beautiful
in freeing something as wonderful as you.

when it rains, i’ll always think of you.

-an excerpt.


it’s the after-missing that’s hard:

realizing you have all these things to share and knowing

you no longer can; almost like 

a house you once shared- the ease in which things have

taken their place by your routine;

the umbrella behind the door, the newspaper on the

right corner of the table, the keys in the jar,

now sit oddly out of place in nooks and corners,

carelessly thrown and left.

in your absence, i learn to love things in a lonely way,

find quiet joys in things we would once have marvelled at


in your absence, i learn to love others,

this new possibility, this opening up. this slowly drifting of


in your absence, i finally learn that things will be okay

even without you around.



for the broken-hearted: it is time to move on.


sometimes when you recognize loves for what they are, when you realize just how incredible love could be, he doesn’t see it the way you do. and for whatever stupid reason that is, you know the only person you have control over is yourself and your own story. so if you want to slam this book with him in it down, you do that. you deserve happiness, not some chance of happiness, not some possibility of a potential love. you deserve to be looked at with eyes that penetrate into your soul, to be loved for your sense of humor and your friendship and your caring and everything else. you don’t deserve someone ‘who isn’t ready’ . you don’t deserve the cold shoulder, the neglect, the ignoring, the fact that you have to take a chance and wait. forget it. you move on. and some days will be bad and some days will be good. some days you will cry and you’ll want to hope again, you’ll want to believe in him again, but then you’ll remember painfully that you can only believe in yourself and no matter how much you are transformed in a relationship, you cannot assume the other person is too. sometimes, people just play games with you and that is all there is to it. what you know, beyond anything, is to have trust in the universe and in yourself, just know you will be okay, baggage, bad days and all.



you and i will be all right, love.

let’s begin the grandest love-affair of all.  let’s begin to  love ourselves.