28 Jun 2016


Maybe I don’t catch a ride with you to work.
Maybe we don’t pull mismatched clothes on in a rabid hurry 
(because you were so cozy that my body refused to part with yours). 
Maybe we don’t fall asleep side by side,
(you watching Ashes 2009 and me watching booktubers rail against plagiarism). 
Maybe we don’t eat dinner while you recap your day for me
(and I pick up the crumbs from the couch that survive wild hand gestures accompanying the stories). 
Maybe we don’t watch the last episode of Game of Thrones,
(me wooting for Jon Targaryen and you wooting for The Hand of the Queen). 
Maybe we don’t make a photo wall, fighting about the right way to stick tape. 
Maybe we don’t get married under a thousand fairy lights.
Maybe we don’t plan a wedding together, not arguing all the time about details we really could care less about and not worrying about budgets and people. 
Maybe you don’t propose in front of a mini book fortress with cupcakes. 
Maybe you don’t be friends with my friends and make them your friends. 
Maybe you don’t start stealing music from me and call it your own.
Maybe I don’t start stealing fries from your plate after refusing to order one for myself. 
Maybe we don’t eat in every cafĂ© in Koramangala.
Maybe you don’t ping me on LinkedIn.
Maybe I won’t pass you by in WonderLa. 
Maybe you won’t break up.
Maybe I won’t break up.
Maybe you stay in Delhi. 
Maybe I’d become Emirati cabin crew. 
Maybe we stayed where we planned to be.

But maybe.
But maybe this (you and me) was truly meant to be. 

P.S: I may or maybe not be in a particularly sappy mood :P