“Everything comes with an expiry date,” as people quote it.
Though it’s true, our belief system waits for an incident
to realize. Like my love.
Love ends quite painfully, but the climax is
informative and comprehending.
Let me tell you how.
“I want to stay like this for eternity,” I spoke,
whilst wondering how she could have such emotive and baby cheeks. I was scared
to handle those milky cheeks.
“Who is stopping us?” those god damn eyes could speak
louder. The confidence and surety was assuring and full of life. I was out of words;
felt like the world around took break to watch us. It isn’t even the touch; it’s
the promise that kept everything hooked.
Love isn’t drug. Love is known unknowingness.
Everything seems to be happening for us, we thank God for taking such a care in
writing, but we don’t realize that God is still writing.
On the way, leaving her deems greater than dying. Soon
dreams are built on illogical pillars. The path ahead seems clear and filled
with enormous amount of joy and understanding. Flaws fade. Heart craves for
more “us” time. Molding for one another appears relishing. From promising
baselessly to realize its aftermath, things take a halt and vicious turn. And
everything after that is Greek.
“God what’s happening?”
Situations which were caressing turn poking. Dreams
shatter. The long happy way is no longer commutable. “Were we insane to plan
all these?” self questioning isn’t a great help but nails you down to the table
of fact. But it’s still the known unknowingness. Truth takes the responsibility
of every act.
Years pass, the white blood cells of hope refuse to
heal the wound of love.
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