"i'll miss you, tony."

I often think about you these days—or nights? I’m not sure. But it is mostly after 2 am that all of it comes running back to my head just like a lost child comes running back to her mother after being found. Well I don’t think about you at 2 pm but you are never really out of my mind.
I have no more grudges if I were to be honest. There are only a few questions lingering at the back of my mind which swim upwards in the late hours, afraid of drowning in this labyrinth that my head is, they cannot afford to die, perhaps because they keep me alive.
So after 2 am as I sit on my bed facing the mirror I try to look for flaws and fallacies which would explain why you left. I find many but none to suffice the action. I can find a lot of reasons to hate you now, zero to love you, but I don’t hate you still.
I don’t know about love anymore. I did love you, of that I’m sure. But now love seems like an exotic bird which would revisit in some far off season. And yet I don’t know whether I would ever be able to get hold of it even for a second, to admire its feathers or to just look for the emotion in its eyes.
Birds are meant to fly you know and so are we, though not literally. When you left, I stopped feeling anything. Though numbness is also a prominent feeling, it subsides the pain of reality. So I lived in my make-believe world for a fortnight.
On the sixteenth day all my stone walls came crumbling down, they were not concrete, the foundation was weak, almost an illusion. So on the sixteenth day the reality seeped in through cracks which I had never spotted in the first place. The waters barely touched my feet but I had the horrendous sensation of drowning already. On the seventeenth day I couldn’t breathe.
And now as I write this after a month, it seems like I have come full circle. There have been nights when I cried myself to sleep, there have been days when I crumbled down near my bedpost knowing nothing of the reason but subtly conscious that it’s you. At times tears welled up in crowds, you know that peculiar loneliness one feels in crowded places? I looked at people, mostly frowning, some flashing tired smiles while doing small talk, and a few actually happy. None of them had an effect on me, the tears travelled up to the corners of my eyes and dissolved into nothingness.
The last week went in a blur, just like the week before you had left. It seems like time before that day has been temporarily erased. It doesn’t come to my mind anymore. Only the last month has been too vivid to forget, perhaps even more than our early days together.
Everything has come full circle; the years spent with you, the last month spent without you. And as the circle would rule; I am feeling nothing but numb at the moment.