In Search of

A hint of irony, a flash of recognition. Truly willing to bring him back , I labor on. A memory here, a deja vu there. Surely he cant be that lost. I will find him, bring him, and with him whatever is mine. Come on, I urge myself to push harder , to scratch beyond the surface. After a while , I stop, am tired and failures aren't good motivators. Shoulders drooping, I trudge back home, to the comforts of sleep and its friends, anonymity and absence of consciousness. Tomorrow, I promise to myself, tomorrow for sure. I will find him, should. The me I lost long back.