To those who sat by the corner window

Sometimes I wonder if those college days, right after moving out from school, were the only witness to the unadulterated version of mine.

Those days when the heart wasn’t tainted by the truths of life and the realities of these human emotions.

When a promise meant a promise and sorry meant you are sorry, in the literal terms as meant in Oxford dictionary.

When you dedicated songs to people you loved and meant them word by word.

When the last pages of your notebook held unabashed secrets, which had the power to make you blush.

When sitting by the corner window meant gazing into those innocent fantasies.

When you didn’t have much understanding of the complexities of this life but you understood the meaning of warmth and affection.

Has the nature of relationships changed altogether to the adulterated version or have I been polluted by the growth of this heart? When I remember the heart that I used to wear on my sleeve, I feel scared. How could I be so vulnerable yet be so damn happy? When expressions were a mirror of my heart and my eyes spoke the depth of my feelings. The mirror is broken and the depth is shallow. Not that it was a conscious effort, it just was. I didn’t even realize when I lost that faith. Isn’t it strange you grow searching for some faith in life to anchor yourself and meanwhile you lose the faith you really had? And unfortunately, you aren’t even sure if you have lost the faith altogether or just have buried it deep within your hardened soul. And so you cannot even start looking for it.