Originally published on Feb 17, 2013 on trulysu.blogspot.in
On that clear summer morning the girl in the yellow pants ended her journey with you. You both have done this before but this time it has a sense of finality. For some reason she wonders what your future would be without her. She had never considered this before, not even when you chose someone else one time. But today she is.
You’re in a new country now exploring sights, people, food, experiences. Every day is an adventure for you and fortunately for you, this leaves little room to think about the girl in the yellow pants who occupied two years of your life. Slowly and steadily this girl will fade from your thoughts and occupy a small room in the recesses of your mind. Sometimes you will walk down the road to that room just to sit over a coffee and reminisce with her. Maybe even you will chat about what could have been. Who knows? But slowly those visits will stop as you will meet other girls. Some of them may remind you of that girl in the yellow pants who lives in a room in your mind while some of them may make you feel like you are fortunate for that clear summer day. She wonders if you still smile thinking about her. Do you ever wonder about me the same way I wonder about you she asks. Do you feel like picking up the phone and calling me to make everything like before, she asks again. She does.
There will be a girl soon who will be THE girl for you. You will finally fall in love with her, marry her and have a loving family with her. You will forget all about that girl in the yellow pants who quietly lives in the room in your mind. You will stop visiting her. On one emotional occasion you will take THE girl along with you for one last visit to the room to introduce them to each other. You will tell THE girl that she was a part of your life for a while and will hopefully say a nice thing or two about her. You will tell the girl in the yellow pants that this is your last visit to her room. Consider this your eviction notice you will say. It’s time to leave.
Maybe your paths will cross again someday when you’re 60 years old with grey hair and wrinkled skin. God can be cruel that way. Or merciful. Whichever way you see it. Maybe that love will raise its head again. Maybe you will have coffee together and talk about your respective families. Maybe you will remember what she looked like in the yellow pants. Maybe you will wish things never ended. Maybe.