you pledge your highest love, you greet your greatest fear.”
tired of him featuring in my blog but rarely in my life. So I ask the question I’ve
been dreading, “What are we?” What I really want to ask is “Who is she?” But we
were always gray and asking that is picking between black and white when it’s
pretty clear we are black, black, black.
remember his lips on mine. I mean no disrespect to all the “hers” in his life. But
right now I am one “her” to one “him.” And I am mesmerised by the thought of
being someone’s. After craving to belong, I finally do. And for the first time I
was too busy falling in love to pick up my pen.
featuring in my life. I am grateful for their inability to commit, because now I
take time to say yes. I am grateful for the pendulum like emotions because they
were really a reflection of my own. And for the broken promises and hateful
exchange of words, I apologise for I am equally
to blame. I was never for you and you were never for me… “Amor Fati” I
experienced too many could-have-beens and they all prepared my heart for this
thousand half–loves must be forsaken to
take one whole heart home.” -Rumi
The best part about him is that he wasn’t perfect over night. We cried and we hurt till we built something that never truly breaks. We rebuild and we grow and at 9am every morning, he calls to say hello. I keep telling myself, “be this for a day, be this for a life time, every single moment is ingrained on mind, body and soul. And now love is: not wanting to sleep because your shirt still smells like him. It’s risking a cold to get a kiss to get you through your day. But best of all, it is knowing that brown eyes will never be the same. Brown eyes will always be you.
“It is as if he is the perfect male counterpart to my own self: each of us giving the other an extension of the life we believe in living.” – Sylvia Plath