Posted in Wonderers


To the dearest stranger,

We were friends at a certain point in our lives. Two strangers, who stopped by to inhale the madness and chaos of this world, to camouflage between the sea of humans, still bearing a different ideology all awhile.

It was then that we met crossroads.

We are strangers as we were once, but for a brief period you made me realize the essence of belonging to each other – something we cannot anymore fulfill.

You asked me to stay, but how could I?

Two passers-by can only watch each other pursue their own destinations. They can neither intervene nor get acquainted.

I remember ourselves walking close-by under the cold night sky, our shoulders almost touching. We were exchanging trust and were building up a fragile friendship. I remember the insults we threw at each other. They were like silent blessings never spoke aloud. And lastly, after all these years, I still miss the long conversations at night when we dreaded being lonely.

Could we not turn back time?

Some day in the distant future we sure will, I believe.

We watched each other grow up, grow out of our insecurities and to embrace our loneliness.

The last day, I saw you with a girl, perhaps some replacement of mine. You looked happy, and were smiling, the same carefree smile from the past. I stared at you long enough to make myself feel uncomfortable.

I was afraid of facing you and so I didn’t. I was witnessing bitter truth, never even realizing that truth doesn’t always hold right. I wondered,

“Am I so well replaceable?”

I smiled a little, in pain, and maybe a bit of sadness, and decided never to make any attempts to meet you again. I looked at you one last time, and it was then that my eyes fell on your wrist. Wrapped around was the band I gave you after our first fight.

You killed me a thousand times or more. I felt numb mostly because I reminisced the happy and sad moments that we shared.

After all these years you taught me a lesson once again,

No matter how much we try, someone else can never fit into another’s skin.





From reflection to shadows, they all whisper silent tales.

9 thoughts on “Irreplaceable

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