Memories that Hurt and Heal….

I wish past were a physical space, like a swimming pool, where I could dive in and taste the water….pure, sublime and salty…..

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Sunshine in a December
Is something to remember
Warm Days and chilly nights
And our stupid silly fights…..

I sit here in the morning sun of winter, my legs sprawled on the table and my eyes squinting at the screen, smiling at a memory that always hums in my mind when I sit alone, absorbing vitamin D that pours through the skies.
One day, while we were having one of our just-friends conversations, Doctor asked me, “how do you get a tan? ”
I tell you, she is unpredictably insane sometimes. And she’s also so very cute, especially when she asks weird questions that I have no clue about. Reminds me of Sin Chan. I racked my little sixteen year old brain for some time, and when nothing struck, I asked her, “why do you want to get tan? ”
“Tan is good, don’t you think so? 😐 “She said.
“Injurious to health, I guess. ”
“Shut up and tell me how to get a tan. ”
I did a massive research on Google and told her everything about tanning, moisturizing, hydrating, sun-screen application and all, and she called me one hell of a geek. I took that as a compliment.
“Okay. I’m tanning now. Do not disturb. “She ordered.
“Okay. “I obeyed.
The thing about Doctor is that she’s a Don. She’s a volcano, an iridescent explosion, a fire. And I am just a  moonstruck admirer.
I waited and imagined her, tanning in the sun, her skin amber and beautiful, and her lips bright and elongated.
Three hours later, she sent a text.
“Tanned. And Black. 😐 ”
I felt like laughing my ass off. Silly!
She also wrote me a poem that I won’t share with anyone and that involved a girl tanning herself in the sun, and I’m sure that that was the first-ever tan-themed poetry in the world.
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.
.
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And now we don’t talk.
So yeah, it’s all coming back now. Nostalgia.
That’s what I was discussing with the gorgeous water-color-artist-who-has-a-beautiful-hairdo yesterday. Memories, no matter how beautiful,  are painful, because they belong to the past, a realm that exists only inside our mind.
I wish past were a physical space, like a swimming pool, where I could dive in and taste the water….pure, sublime and salty.

Author: ravish raj

● 17yearoldboy ● capricorn ● artist ● pornaholic ● victim of the great INDIAN EDUCATION SYSTEM ● Googlebhakt ● amateur writer ● confused and devastated ● UNATTRACTIVE ● still a virgin ●

4 thoughts on “Memories that Hurt and Heal….”

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