Will You Write About Me?

“Will you write about me?”

He asked a week before we said our final goodbye.

I had no answer.

As a writer, you don’t know if you’ll be writing about an incident in the future. Some of them are so perplexing that you hardly figure out what’s happening when it’s happening, and writing about it never crosses your mind.

It only happens in retrospect when we think about what an extraordinary day it was and how it fits perfectly in the story we’re telling.

Will I write about you?

I don’t know where do I even begin.

Should I write about the color of the shirt, you wore on our anniversary or the jazzy word you taught me. And if I write about you, would you understand it was referred to you and not any of my ex’s?

Guess what; you’ll never know.

Dating a writer is a tricky business.

You don’t know what’s going on in their mind.

Are they finding a comeback for your argument, or are they thinking about something else?

You want your writer lover to understand your deepest emotions or your prominent features. Still, we are usually drawn to what we discover what only we can see from our imaginary eyes. We don’t want to acknowledge what you want to show or what the world can see.

We pick things that you won’t dare to speak or dream.

Will I write about you?

If I have the choice, I won’t.

But if the words are fighting to come out when I won’t resist. I will let them linger in my mind long enough and give them the home they deserve on one of my pieces.

When you date a writer, you’re allowing them to see a part of yourself that nobody notices, not even you. For example, the way you sip your morning coffee with both hands like a five-year-old. Or how many products you use in your hair when you step out.

Some incidents do stay with us irrespective of how meaningless they seemed when they happened.

Some of them can’t be forced into an article even if we want to, but they stay. They stay like the childhood memories we no longer go back to, but we know we can relive them by going through old pictures.

And what about those memories that we can’t forget.

Be it driving to the airport at midnight just to talk in the parking lot.

Be it the time we were followed by the locals near Taj Mahal.

Or the time we got lost in the streets of Goa at 1 am.

These stories are fun, and I am sure my audience will devour them.

But they aren’t just mine; they are yours as well.

These stories are not just mine, they are yours as well.

They’re the anecdotes that have stayed with me from all those years. Writing about a person is not something I want to be doing unless it’s for a novella. But I will always write about my feelings when I was with you and the memories that are mine.

…

Will I write about you?

I won’t.

Instead, I’d write about myself when I was with you or how I have evolved myself and learned about love and relationships.

Or the filaments of our relationship that have stayed with me. These moments are all that I have. I know I can never live them again, but having that story transcribed in words makes it eternal.

It makes me feel like I gained something even when I lost you or that moment.

—

This post was previously published on medium.com.

***