NYAC | 2min Read
Published on May 7, 2026
We Will Still Wed, If You Ever Decide to Come Back
We Will Still Wed, If You Ever Decide to Come Back
I cry as I write this, still mourning a future that was never even fully proofed. W e never really wanted the picket fences and a big suburban villa though. Y ou had your ambitions, and I had mine. There was a gap in my dream which was supposed to get filled with my college plans. But you already had yours sorted, and you impressed my mother with it.
Already at fourteen— you were ready to build a house brick by brick for us. I was scared of talking about children, but I told you that I wanted to adopt. However now, my maternal instincts are stronger than ever, and I imagine how it could have been if I told you about the chokehold that babies have on me now. I imagine my children having your eyes, because that always will be something I’ll only ever want with you.
I wish I had told you about all of it.
I wouldn’t mind moving to a country that isn’t as urban as the cities we’re used to. I could see you trying to dig soil for me to sow the fruit’s leftover seeds in, dirt getting stuck under your finger nails. And then you’d wash your hands thrice, last time without the soap. A small routine that you’d built over time after either gardening or peeling garlic. You’d make sure my morning coffee would be exactly catered to my preference, and you’d keep aside some of your t-shirts for me to wear every night. I’d learn the way you’d chant my name, sometimes out of rapture, other times out of despair. And I’d finally let you understand the depth of the vortex of my emotions. I’d pick out your outfit for any and all occasions and you’d zip up my dress, or fasten the clasp of my necklace. You’d struggle with barre chords on the guitar, and I’d laugh, refusing to admit that there was a time when I was in your place. I’d insist on our children getting your smile but secretly you’d tell our parents how they look exactly like me.
Some day, that will happen. I know.
