Sometimes you cry
silently, under your breath because the pain feels difficult to bear and too heavy
to part with. Sometimes all you want to do is ignore, love a person anyway. But the
throbbing ache in your heart never ceases. Ah the irony of it. While several of
them, living under the same roof are barely steps away from shredding each
other to pieces, yours is an everlasting wait. You forget the details of his
face, how his nose crinkles when he smiles or the quiet dimple resting on his
cheek.
God’s unfair. You rest
your case. Otherwise why are some people together and distance is deciding the
fate of others? And why can’t you enjoy his company without continually preparing yourself
for the eventual parting? And when the moment comes, why must you breathe
profusely and immerse yourself in work, so that you don’t have to worry about a
timid heart, sinking into the shallow waters, in which his ship sails away.
The futility of love
has never been clearer. He wants a husky and you are okay with just about
anything as long as there is a dog in the house. You feel the need to text him
sweet nothings, even when you are sitting on a pot, relieving yourself. You
open your eyes to his messages and his are the final words you find yourself
smiling at, before dozing off at night. Even when you are cynical and downright
absurd, he makes you feel great about yourself. When it is his mistake, he is
quick to apologise and crack an obnoxious joke which somehow restores the
balance in the universe.
The futility of love
has never been clearer. It lets you be, even when you are not.
