“So how did it all begin?” they’d ask. I smiled, a little more today, maybe for the last first time. Maybe we’d never walk along those corridors filled with the familiar essence that brings back so many memories. Maybe we’d never hold hands as we chuckled at silly jokes. Maybe the food hadn’t tasted more heavenly before. Maybe things had just begun, when they were meant to end.
Fascination. This is a word I associate deeply with this place. The gates, oh the tall, proud gates that have seen innumerable bright and sad faces pass through them, stand strong even today. The windows all along, deceiving anyone who passes by, luring you to peek inside their enchanting world. Everything about this place hurts. It hurts because it is too beautiful to be forgotten. And maybe, it’s not always about the people, it’s about the place too.
But the people here have been boundlessly amazing. They’ve been those shades of paint that fill your canvas with the most appreciated masterpiece on earth. Their laughs are your favorite kind of music, their smiles enough to light up your teary eyes. If there’s heaven somewhere, then I know this is it.
“So how did it all begin?” when they ask, I do not have an answer. Why? It’s not like I don’t remember. The date it all started on is freshly imprinted on my mind. What I do not recall is the exact moment when the first of firsts began. What I do not wish to remember is when the last of lasts will end.
How it all began didn’t matter, at least not today. Today is a good day for I’m here today. I may not be here tomorrow. They may not be here, too. And what will a bird do without its wings, for what is a bird that can’t fly?
“So how did it all begin?” they’d ask and I’d smile my favourite smile, one of knowing things. The smile that knew it wasn’t the right time to smile but still did. The smile that saved those happy sad memories. The smile that was one of our treasured, young smiles. The smile that I might forget to smile, someday soon.
“So how did it all begin?” they’d ask. I’d say I don’t know. For how things started didn’t really matter, but how they ended, did.
Things are going to end soon. And I’ll let them be. I won’t try mending the broken pieces. I won’t try stitching back the patches of friendship. I won’t try running from hurricanes. I won’t try taming the wild. For how wild it was, to let it be, I’d always want them to know.