look! there’s a camera zoomed in on our hands. in the script, our hands are supposed to meet, our fingers are supposed to be interlocked. everyone lives happily ever after. however, in real life, the background music isn’t enchanting, it’s melancholic. through the lens, you can’t see wide grins and excited expressions. instead, our hands reach out to one another. or better yet, i reach for you. but what happens? we don’t even have a chance to collide our pinkies. there is a force that pulls us apart and the camera is left with a shot of nothing. why is it that i’m spending the days crying for you and the nights dreaming about you? why is it that i can feel you call my name but it turns out to be just a story webbed together in my mind? i still cannot look at a picture of yours without my heart breaking a slight bit. each time, a piece just chipping off. disintegrating. forgotten. like it was rotten, like my memories of you are rotten. don’t smile at me, i might cry. don’t even look at me, i might cry. my friends bring you up and insult your name and i cry but why? why? why? why? why? you’ve broken me yet i continue to care. i continue to wish we could restart and maybe this time you wouldn’t stop loving me. maybe in another life, we end up together. maybe in a universe light-years away, you manage to grasp my hand.
Reeti Ramchandani, originally from India, is a sophomore attending high school in Dubai, UAE. She’s a self-proclaimed daydreamer, finding inspiration in the everyday and using writing to capture the magic of the world around her. Reeti has work published in Teen Ink, Cathartic Lit and soon BHM Magazine. Her dream is to create and publish a poetry collection, and inspire countless other young, brown writers like herself.
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