The Diary Of A Broken Heart

You.

I've been staring at your profile picture since the past twenty minutes. Noticing every detail. The orange walls of your room remind me of your favourite colour, orange. A colour that became my favourite just because of you. The air craft images in your walls remind me of your aims. Your desire to touch the skies and travel places. The old dusty computer table reminds me of the craze you have for research. Your diplomatic behaviour and the debates we had over the country. A country you love. A country I love just because of you. The old fashioned  curtains with colourful squared patterns remind me of how you always said you sucked at art. But whenever you painted, you painted wonderfully. The marks on the mirror remind me of your nagging face whenever we gossiped over appearances. You always said that you looked ugly, but I always told you that you slay. Not because you appealed to my eyes, but to my heart. The flash of your camera reminds me of the snaps you sent crying how bad the front camera was. Though I hated the way the pixels scattered out, I'd always wait for your snap. Not because I wanted to see you, but complain to you about how bad your phone was and have you defend yourself like a boss.
And now, let's come to you. The red shirt you're wearing reminds me of that day when we had the same profile pictures. Both wearing red. The messy tie reminds me of the way you used to struggle wearing it. Not because you didn't know how to tie it, but because you wanted me to draw close and do it for you. Your chubby hands remind of the way you used to complain about the keyboard being small. It always gave you trouble because of your fat fingers, but you never said no to typing using that keyboard whenever I couldn't skype. Your hair style may not be like Justin Bieber or Harry Potter, but I always loved it. It was, perhaps, the best hair style one could have. Your hair looked oily but I'm sure it was your favourite hair gel. The one you always bragged about. Your stomach bulges out, just the way it used to when you would stand in the line waiting for your turn at the cafeteria. It reminds me of the way you always nagged about not being in shape and I'd always tell you that it's okay but you'd never listen.  Your forehead, broad as ever, reminds me of the way you kissed mine. Your lips curl up just the way they did when you were late on our first date. Your shaved chin reminds me of the way you cried when you got your first cut and how I always told you to be careful while shaving. Your nose looks like the balloon I blew after popping it already. And it reminds me, of how you used to cuddle with my nose. Your smile is something I'd die for. It reminds of the way you first smiled at me. It's an unforgettable moment of my life. Your eyes sparkle, just the way they used to when they rested upon me. The blush of your cheeks reminds me of the days when you used to stare at me in public and smile to yourself like an idiot.

So, do you see how every part of one single picture reminds me of a thousand things about you? And they say scars heal. Only if they did~