Weird that's what he calls me these days
From morning to night, he complains
That I don't fight, I smile wider
I don't crib, I listen more
Don't mistake him for being sadist
For he misses the person he fell in love with
Weird that's what he calls me these days
From morning to night, he complains
That I don't eat, I look paler
I want to be thinner, but I am just becoming weaker
Don't mistake him to be a nutritionist
For he always loved the chubbiness of mine
For he is always fond of calling me 'fatty not pretty'
Weird that's what he calls me these days
From morning to night, he complains
That I have been to some hypnosis or metamorphosis
A change.. that he cannot accept:
From a workaholic to a globe trotter
From a miser to a spend thrift
Don't mistake him to be a homebody
For his mission to take me out for a night stroll always failed
For his plans to travel the world were always challenged
All I could do is Laugh on his face
I said Not Me, Weird is what his chooses
He lasted one week with my new silence,
My calm, my detachment.
One fight: where I refused to fight
Shook him more than all our storms ever did.
“Hey… let's be normal,” he whispered.
“Let's not be cold.”
Only two months left in 2025, he said.
He wants to finish the year “normally.”
I held his gaze and nodded.. I want to finish…'everything'… gently.
All I wanted to say but Couldn't
Only two months left… yes.
Not just for the year, my dearest!!
For me too..
With you..
On this planet!!