The Lost Past
I saw you there. Behind the façade that you pulled off, behind the masks that you wore, I recognized you. You tried a million times to hide from me, but I found you. And I’m glad I did. I’m so happy I did. I have missed you.
Why do you choose to hide? Why do you run away? Why can’t you face me? You think I won’t accept? Accept is such a small excuse, my friend. I’ve come all this way just to make myself believe that you exist. You don’t know how happy I am just to be able to meet you once again in this very lifetime. I had assumed, all these years, that I lost you forever.
People change. Beliefs change. Life happens. And I am okey with that. The person you were ten years ago is not the person you are now; I understand that. That accident changed your life. It changed ours too. We lost you. You didn’t contact us while we spent our days grieving. The loss was too great to handle. And I’m not complaining. No. I’m sure you had your reasons. And I won’t ask why you didn’t come back, why you renounced everything that you had- a happy family, social status, and a beautiful fiancé. I’m just saying that none of that matters any more.
I won’t ask you to return, if that’s what you fear. If you can’t come to us, we can come to you. But there’s always a home, for you to come back to when you can.
Hope you shall find this.
* * * * *
There are chapters in my life that I’d rather keep unpublished. Some of them are not even worth explaining. It’s just that, I had lost my memories. And when after one year I had them back, I was overwhelmed. I did go back then, but you all had moved on, and were happy in your respective lives. There was no place for me to fit in. The more I missed you all, the more I realized I can’t once again be the reason for another mess in your lives.
Being unaffected by the worldly affairs was difficult, especially at that time when I was emotionally shaken. It all seemed so pretentious at first. But I learned to live like a stoic, a calm and peaceful life, until I saw you last week. It was like the past knocked at my door once more. I don’t want to sound selfish, but you won’t find the person you’re searching, ever, in me once again. That person is lost. Lost to the oblivion.
So, I beg you to return. And keep mum about having seen me, if you can. I am a nomad right now, and I wish to be so for the rest of my existence. The home you speak of, seems too far, separated by a decade.
Your Lost Past.