The futility of love...

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.