We used to be together silently for hours. Not a word used to be spoken. You used to come to me when you were sad, depressed. You would burn me down only for me to be reborn. And there was some solace in that silence for both of us. It used to make your heart feel lighter and it was the only conversation I used to have with anyone. There was something magical in the smoke to which you were addicted to. Maybe the burning sensation diverted you from your pains. I feel guilty but I used to long for you to come to me. You were the world to me.
But now I haven’t seen you for a while. You must have found someone to share your sorrows, someone who doesn’t just sit silently beside you but lends you some soothing words. I suppose I should be happy for you, but its so hard to feel that way. I hope someday you would show up feeling the need of having a silent conversation with me. I hope, though I am ashamed of doing so.