the dust of time

I miss the feeling of missing her..or longing to meet her..or wanting to dream of her. I say to myself I am completely out of it...and it does seem like that but I don't want it to happen. Most of my holiday I continued to feel the void..but not enough..not enough to give me the feel I was looking for..was on a different mission during my stay in Goa but I did give it a try..the easy way but liqour didn't work for me that day. Was sitting alone at a bus-stop in front of the Mumbai railway station waiting for my friends...the cool January wind gave me a feel of the Delhi winters..and together drifted the good old days...
Today above all i wanted to read our conversations..the logs that I had been keeping for ages. Some effort and i managed to get them at my screen...and as i read i realized how distant and different I was from her when I was being her lover. I never really got real close to her until she declared that it was over. But the time after that was the time when I really got to know her...and I really started feeling like her. I wish I could keep a log of those endless conversations I had at her balcony when we weren't lovers..when we weren't friends..but when we still knew we needed to talk to each other. Though she never admitted to it, but it was then that we started feeling that we needed each other..and it was then that I felt more secure. I am still being lazy to untie that yellow bundle. I dusted it and then displaced it today when I cleaned the room. I wish it helps to keep her fresh in my memories forever.