The day, you fell off the swing for the first time, and felt chagrined, and couldn't help but stare at the stale ground to avoid familiar eyes grin, taught me to stand up in dusty pants and walk down the street, Unswayed,untouched to the rusty rants.
Your first fight with your first friend, those nights you spent figuring out the trouble in your head, questioning the immortal if it was you who was erroneous,improper or fallacious, helped me love and support my immediate soul in days of unrest.
The first time you couldn't stand on expectations put forward by others, the first encounter with unfortune or unstudied failure, gifted me rationality and hope, forced me to stand on expectations, not of others,but of my own.
The first time you were deceived in love, the first breakup or departure of a loved one, that left you shattered for days, held your head thinking and predicting, if the zephyr of happiness would ever walk your way, helped me realise that no one else except me could be the harbinger of my own happiness, or herald of my own misfortune.
I know you've cried, and walked on wrong paths, and made silly mistakes but honey, the aftermath of your story, unfolds the fiction of my life, where you've personified your fears, Into my splendiferous strengths, You've moulded your incomplete phrases, Into poetry that my heart breathes, but my favourite part is the oxymoron, you penned out of us, without which every sentence would have been left unsaid.
-your future self.
Feeling low today. Maybe my future self will feel blessed tomorrow.