The coy thread of our first stolen eye contact.
The trembling thread of our first hand shake.
The nervous thread of our first day out.
The comfortable thread of us getting along perfectly.
The thread of ecstasy of our first kiss.
The angry thread of our first argument.
The thread of ego holding us back from reaching out.
I spun all of them.
Tightly knit together they gave me this fabric of memories.
Beautiful but dull.
I drape it around me every time I feel restless
And steal a serene moment from the chaos.
But the thread longing for your love hangs loosely
Not giving in to be a part of the knitting.
Everytime it gives me hope that it's not over yet.
And I continue my search to seek the dye of courage
To reach out to you again.
When the pink of love will tint this fabric
And it'll no more be dull with pain.