Even now when I see you, my heart misses a beat, but while earlier it was excitement now it is due to stabbing pain. Even now your closeness gives rise to butterflies in my stomach but it’s not in anticipation, rather anxiety. Your touch is no longer electrical and arousing but rather chilling and numbing. Your voice no longer comforts or soothes but it saddens and depresses me. Yet I am not mad at you. I can never be mad at you, but how can I be not hurt? I can, maybe forgive you, but tell me, how do I forget you? I can understand you, but how do I accept you again? If I am alive, I am strong, but maybe not strong enough to trust you again. I had loved you so now how do I judge you? I can’t. I simply can’t because in spite of all, my heart still finds in it to love you.

We were never bounded by law but nature. You were the most natural thing in my life. You were the normal in my normalcy. You never promised to stay but then I knew you’ll never leave, I never vowed that I won’t leave but then you knew I’m here to stay. You never asked me to believe but then I had no reasons not to. I never asked you to trust on me for there was no reason for me to lie to you. But these very essences of truth in my life seem mere ideas of my delusional heart; for somehow the reality of you destroyed my idea of our love. And yet the world holds it all against me for it was I who believed in the unspoken words.

But tell me, does not the meek and high cloud count upon the vast ocean, into which, in the hour of need, it showers all of it, for the latter’s reincarnation? Does not the charitable tree trust upon the fruit it so selflessly nurtures to carry on its existence forward in time? Does not the mother who swore an unconditional love even before the bones were formed, hope for a wet eye? Or can’t I, for the uncalled pains I took expect any acknowledgment and care? It seems so supernatural for mere mortal beings to fathom and cultivate the art of indifference, in its free yet limited heart. Remember, even the only Begotten Son died hoping for a turn towards the Father. Why is expectation looked upon as an option? It’s natural and inherent. It’s the very characteristic of the mortal half of my existence.

Before you came, I was alone but now I am lonely. You are close to my eyes but light years away from my heart. But again, before you came along I was at the periphery of my existence, you pushed me to the core of it. I’m now aware of every breath I take, of every pulse that vibrates against the skin of my neck, of ever beat that my heart produces. You have made me aware of my life. The pain that you gave me and the ache that you left me with, reminds me every minute that I am alive and still alive. I was bold, you made me soft. I was cold you made me sensuous, I was numb you made me sensitive. I guess love tames us to be the best of humans that we can possibly be.

I now like vacant streets filled with nothing but the street lights and silence. You have taught me to value my own company. I like the forsaken houses that stand alone with its wall being the sole witness to the untold tales. I like calm and still oceans, I like the way its depth arouses some deep unknown emotions within. I find beauty in the ache that it leaves me with. I like starless nights; I like the bare sky and moonless vacuum. I like empty corridors and bare trees. I can now appreciate nakedness; I am more comfortable when things are nude from all that covers their reality. You have taught me that. I have come to respect vulnerability and purity and frankness; for I am all of these now. I would like to fall in love with something I know exists. Now somehow pain and weakness make things appear more pure and eternal to me. I have felt these in my very bones; I have seen it in the lives my life has managed to touch. I have come to not just understand but accept reality for now I am the most real version of me — hurt and broken yet breathing and living.

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