Hyderabad : 6 August 2022: He was sunshine to me. The kind that made me want to try living again and wait for the prism of colors in the sky when it clears up. And I’ve been used to the harshest and tumultuous weathers ever forecasted — I have always been visited by the storms and its indelicate winds pushing me off the shore and away. Pushing me to the familiar patterns of wreckage. But he was sunshine which calls me back home to safety and mooring me back to shore, my calm after the stormbound push.
He was warm, like the foreglow preceding the sunrise that breaks the melancholy of the midnight sky. The first warm touch against my cold cheeks from the night of sleepless slumber, making me feel like everything’s going to be fine — that I get the chance to start over again.
He is sunshine to me, still. I want to stay wrapped in his arms every time, holding tightly my fraying bones until I feel whole again. Until I am safe and cared for. Choosing happiness over history, choosing me each day. Making me feel the peace I deserve knowing my heart’s now home —
home, at last.