I know why, and also (maybe, partly) why you never said anything.
I know that I didn’t have a zest for life when we met, and I know this bothered you. I know you made me happy, but I know life didn’t and I know this bothered you more.
I want you to know I tried. I want you to know I know you tried too. And I want you to know we both maybe could have tried harder. But I want you to know maybe we couldn’t have. 🙂 And that’s ok.
And I know you couldn’t say anything about it, because how can you tell someone “I’m sorry, I can’t be with you because you are a depressed survivor, and when (it feels like) I’m the only thing that makes you happy”?
And there was, truly, so much in your life at that point. So maybe, this was part of it.
I understand why you couldn’t say goodbye, and there was never any anger in my heart, and I can feel it now let go of the sadness and regret. Underneath, there is some memory of happiness.
Maybe some fine day, I will remember the better memories with you, without any pain.
You always wanted a poem in a language you couldn’t understand,
and no one since you appreciates my poetry like you did, so here is a poem about finding time to live. 🙂
har ek pal mein
ek lambi kahani hai chupi hui
lekin yeh kahaniyan kaun likhta
kaun padtha, inn savaalon ke
shayad jawab bhi hai nehin
lekin saans hai tho
avaaz hai, aur avaaz hai,
tho shabd hai:
kis kalam se hum likhenge?
kis nazar se hum dekhenge?
aur pal, pal se pal guzarjaate hain
Thanks for the good times, saajan.
I really did love you, and I never regretted that,
but there is more to life than love. 🙂