“I Find The Best Way To Love Someone Is Not To Change Them, But Instead, To Help Them Reveal The Greatest

The Art of Memoir, Mary Karr

“I suffered holy pains.”

— Herman Hesse, Steppenwolf

1. // 2. Haruki Murakami, Sputnik Sweetheart // 3. Simone Weil, An Anthology of Selected Writings // 4. // 5. Czesław Miłosz, from “The Song.” // 6. L’Amica Geniale, Those Who Leave And Those Who Stay // 7. Haruki Murakami, 1Q84 // 8. Third Eye - Florence + The Machine, art by @sunsbleeding // 9. Susan Sontag, Reborn: Journals and Notebooks, 1947-1964 // 10. Mary Oliver, Upstream: Selected Essays

Still.

I miss you so much in this moment. My skin comes alive with chills. My eyes, with tears. My heart with a dull, familiar ache.

I wish you could hear me. I wish you could sense how much I need you. I wish you could see who I am. I wish you would come back to me again.

How could you just let me go And live on without a word or a thought?

How could you just walk away Without a wonder or a regret?

How am I supposed to forget you When your body brought me to life? Even though you almost extinguished the fire in my soul.

Your neck. Your back. Your arms. Your hands.

Your fingers.

Your chest. Your stomach. Your hips.

Your thighs. Your calves. Your feet. Your toes.

The heat between your legs.

Your hair. Your ears.

Your eyes. Those eyes.

Your lips. Your nose.

Your voice. Your breath.

Your kisses.

Your smile. Your laughter.

I miss all of you. I remember all of you. Every precious inch of you.

I remember the way you felt inside of me. I remember the way your body moved, Always with intention; Always in control. Steady. Strong.

I remember the weight of your silhouette And your hips between my legs While you leaned down to kiss me And I curled my fingers in your hair, Wrapped my thighs around your waist.

I let myself dissolve into your rhythm. I let you lose yourself inside of me.

I remember catching your groans in my throat, The play of your tongue.

I remember how it felt To inhale your breath. It was sweeter than any air. It was pure energy. It fed me.

I remember your whispers. Your questions. Your instructions. Your revelations. “Yes.”

I begged you “Please.” Always. “More.”

I called out to God. I moaned your praises.

You are etched into my mind.

You are traced into my soul.

You are bringing me to my knees. Without a word, without a glance, without a breath.

I’m shackled by a memory. A ghost.

amaar ekla akash thomke geche raater srothe bheshe, shudhu tomay bhaalo bheshe

my lonely skies have stopped sailing in the dark currents of the night, after (I started) loving you

amaar din gulo shob rong chineche tomaar kache eshe, shudhu tomay bhaalo bheshe

you acquainted my days with color , after (I started) loving you

tumi chokh mellei phool phutheche amaar chaade eshe

the moment our eyes meet, the patio blooms with flowers

bhorer shishir thonth chuye jaay, tomaay bhaalo bheshe

the morning dew caresses my lips after loving you

— Peonies, by Mary Oliver

“Live in the sunshine. Swim in the sea. Drink the wild air.”

— Ralph Waldo Emerson

Like the sound of dew, the end of the day brings evening; the kite erases the scent of the sunshine; when all the colors of the world are faded, the manuscript is arranged, the fireflies and their colors flicker in that story; all the birds come home - all the rivers end this life’s works; there is only darkness, and she sits in front of me, Banalata Sen.

- Jibananda Das, Banalata Sen

Nizar Qabbani once wrote There are some people that we didn't forget, but we don't smile anymore when they're mentioned.

Just like Ahmad Faraz said Ab tere zikr pe hum baat badal dete hain, kitni raghbat thi tere naam se pehle pehle