i still have the teddy bear you gave me years ago.

bear.

 

his name is bear.

he's missing his pink bow, but he is still bear.

bear sits on my bed, right next to my pillow.

he is there when i lie awake at night,

tossing and turning

feeling like the world is ending

wondering why we couldn't hold on.

i still have the elephant you got me from your hometown.

the one made of wood with a baby elephant inside.

i keep it on my desk, under the shelves.

its eyes seem to follow me every time

i pace the room, worn out

but resolute,

knowing that we couldn't hold on. 

i still have the notebook with our birthday blessings in it.

the one in which, on a whim, we decided to 

take turns blessing each other 

every time a birthday rolled around.

i hope the blessings still remain even though we broke like the pen that spilt ink

all over centuries-old parchment.

it was inevitabe that we couldn't hold on.

i still have the inferiority complex i got from being the odd one out for 10 years.

it sits right next to my impostor syndnrome

and my constant fear that i don't belong, that stemmed from being

the afterthought

the least sought after

the fourth wheel on a rickshaw.

i dont know if i'd be myself anymore if we'd have held on.

i still have all the photographs of our best moments, frozen in time.

they're not on my wall anymore, but tucked away in a drawer

for me to revisit when the longing looms.

i still have the insecurities, and the memories too.

i know i'll grow out of one of them.

the other, i hope i never lose.

in my heart, despite the odds, i still hold on.

i still make my hot chocolate the way you taught me to.

i still do those video workouts every morning, alone.

i still chuckle when i think of the indo-chinese food in our city.

i still instinctively reach for my phone to send you a picture every time i dress up 

i still watch the shows you got me into.

i still carry pieces of all of you, everywhere i go. 

in your heart, despite the odds, do you hold on?

i still have enough love for you 

to last an eternity. 

you taught me strength in ways that hurt, in ways that none of us expected.

but i miss you more than words can say. of course i do.

i just hope that there's another universe, somewhere, 

where we can find it in ourselves

to pick up again, and hold on.