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January 9, 2013

He does not exist anymore, except in my imagination.  Memories arising when I least expect them.  Sometimes, I catch a glimpse of him and I feel such a fondness.  I wish I could spare him the pain I know he’ll experience. But I also know the love he will as well.  The amazing things he’ll see, the adventures he’ll have.

At the same time, I, who has experienced all that he will, I so often forget the lessons.  So I write.  A guide, perhaps, to the future.  To the self that I will one day look back to and nod, knowing.  Smiling.

4 Comments leave one →
  1. January 9, 2013 2:36 am

    Such a truer statement has never been uttered. He’s not the only one that forgets all his lessons.

  2. January 9, 2013 6:22 am

    Very nice, Kamal. I read once – ‘Every moment is a chance to create yourself anew.’ Kinda reminded me of that..

  3. January 9, 2013 6:37 pm

    Your words are always poems. And, like poems they leave me wondering. That’s a good thing.

  4. January 13, 2013 11:07 pm

    I hurt for him. I am him.

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