The Diary Of A Broken Heart

Promises

I sat in the blurred silence, puffing those malboro lights. There's something rather peculiar about the morning, this morning. It feels colder and much bluer than before. That's what nostalgia causes: grim and grey mornings, which seem longer than ever, yet so short when you begin meditating over stuff that hurts. Looking back on the course of life I find so much has changed.

At the age of six,a girl promised to be my best friend for a lifetime. Life was playful, and I never knew what life actually meant till tonight. She knew my abhorrers, the ones I abhorred and a stupid crazy liking I had for a classmate in year 2. We grew up, only to be drifted apart. I don't even remember her full name, nor how she looked. All I remember, is that she promised to stay. But promises, ah. They're meant to be broken, right?

Year 8: First love. Perhaps my last. He knew me deeply: my desires, my fears. He loved the broken pieces of me with all the broken pieces of his heart. We mended each others' souls in unimaginable ways. But suddenly, one night, he left. Without a goodbye. And the worst goodbyes are the ones never bidden. Today, after so many years, I don't really remember a thing we talked about during such similar 4 am mornings. All I remember, is that he promised to stay. But promises, ah. They're meant to be broken, right?

I had two other friends at this time. Closer than sisters, perhaps. From sharing clothes, food, rooms & beds to secrets, crushes & guilts. Time flashed by. Today, I only remember their names. Their numbers are merely show pieces in the contact list, long lost to ever be in the call log. I don't really know how they've been in a while, how are their kids or their husbands. All I know, is that they promised to stay. But promises, ah. They're meant to be broken, right?

Last year, my classmate, who used to be a deep one, let her cat out of her bag. Her broken heart came out clean in front of me. And I, I belong to the category of healers. Yeah, healers. They're people who give all of themselves to join back pieces of a broken heart. They act like glue, that works till its full capacity, you know. But I'd rather describe them as the fools. They give their all, only to get none. And that's exactly what I did. I mended her. Just like I had mended him. And like him, she left too. Today, I her chat tab is buried deep down in all apps, her name, no where in the notifications, call logs or searches. I don't really remember why she took no milk in her coffee, nor why she always listened to Taylor Swift. All I know, is that she promised to stay. But promises, ah. They're meant to be broken, right?

Oh and yes. My very recent best friend. He had begun to like my rival. And today, even he drifted away. Today, I remember every single thing about him. But years from now, I will forget his favourite colour or his favourite football team. All I will remember, will be that he promised to stay. But promises, ah. They're meant to be broken, right?