I remember this day as if it were yesterday, we were hanging out with some of your friends in Pune and then decided to go get sizzlers for dinner. It was gorgeous outside, and the countryside was beautiful. I rode behind Jomo and I think you took your own scooter. It was raining lightly and the wind was blowing through my hair and I felt so free and happy. We were happy and fearless, the way only young people can be. We still believed in our own immortality.
I know I'll never be that carefree again.
There will never be another day, when I am a on a bike in the rain, going at high speed and being just perfectly happy. In fact since you got sick, I haven't been on a bike. It makes my stomach churn. There are too many memories of you and me on bikes and now I am aware of my mortality.
I reminded you of this day in October and you said, "of course we were happy, we were high" but I think you were wrong. I think we were happy because there was no reason not to be. We were happy in a way that people who are young, beautiful and free should be.
I miss you. I think a different, more stable happiness would be a wonderful experience to share with you too. I really think it's unfair, that we didn't have more of that. I am angry that people want me to get over this, as though, it's a minor inconvenience to my life. You were very important to me. I want to be able to mourn you, without being rushed. I wish we wore a different color when we were in mourning, so other people knew not to push us so hard to be ok again.
