The One Left Behind

I remember how I always wore the blue scarf when I came to see you,

partly because blue signifies calmness

But mostly because you had once mentioned how beautiful I looked with that scarf on,

I remember how you always opened the door only upon on the third knock,
And how I tried, I tried everything possible to reach out to you,

But you stayed in your room all day long,

Your sticky, clumsy blonde hair mopping over your dull, freckled face,

As you sat bent over your tablet looking at the numerous ugly selfies you had clciked with him,

Reliving those unforgettable moments which were reduced to mere memories dripping with melancholy.

You wanted not to witness any signs of life, even by accident,

You always kept the windows and the curtains drawn,

Occasionally, I would show to you a meme on my phone, and you would almost flash a smile, even if only it’s a broken one,

But as if on cue, I would watch it vanish with a crumbling heart,

It almost seemed like you were glad to be unhappy,

And wouldn’t let the unworthy, fleeting happiness invade your crushed soul,

And I found myself thinking of the old times when you both annoyed me with your goofy laughter,

Because I couldn’t differentiate between the two of you,

Oh, but I had always pretended,

For the one who grew pink on seeing me had always been  you.

You rarely spoke, despite knowing that I had travelled this far only to hear your voice, as terrible as it sounded,

Much in contrast to the times, when we kept prattling on like three impatient, reckless mockingbirds,

Interrupting each other to the point someone lost their nerves,

So, I began bringing a pile of magazines, pretending as if they held the compilation of world’s best articles,

While all I did was only flip through the pages,

Cautiously noting every single movement your body made, through the corner of my eye.

And one day, out of the blue, you spoke “I wish it had been me, there would have been less tears and fewer wreaths” your face looking paler than ever,

I shook my head and gazed at you for a long moment,

Wondering how long it would be before I could confess that it was you,

it was you whom I had always loved,

And how I had felt an unexplainable sense of relief sweep over my body,

When I had known that it was him, who left us early, and not you,

It could probably take a long while.
But it doesn’t matter,
As long as you know I have your back,
As long as you let me hold you tight and give you all the love and warmth you will ever need.
You squeezed my hand until it hurt,
And then, I felt silent tears roll down my cheeks, as you leaned on my shoulders and began weeping, something you haven’t done since Jack’s death.