What went wrong?

We “functioned by pain”

And we both were getting high on that.

It was convenient…

No it wasn’t.

I was just dealt the right card at the right time.

The strength you had and the strength you gave me

Can only be in and be given by you.

And I should have been aware of all of this from the beginning,

But I can’t always be right,

And whenever I was right, it was because I’ve learnt this before…

I think,

The thing that put me off

Or the thing that delayed my full understanding is

My sudden extreme sense of hope.

I’ve never hoped about something the way I did towards anything related to you or us.

And it was either hope or complete awareness of our situation.

Now.. with realizing how incompatible we really are,

How we both can never be the pillar that can help the other to stand tall and confident,

How we can cause so much misery under the umbrella of I love you’s,

After I’ve become aware that this love story can never be repeated

With you (again) or anyone else.

The hope I had that our story has not yet ended cease to exist.

The hope that I could find someone that could make me feel the way you did is no longer alive.

I’ve buried it, said my prayers, and now I grieve,

With a satisfied heart still beating and moving on…

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“Hello darkness my old friend..” Hello depression. Hello stress.

I thought visiting their graves was enough,

Exchanging thoughts and breathing the same air, for a while.

Then leaving for a more hopeful destination.

But my visits have been more frequent recently,

I thought I’d stop coming a long time ago.

And this weekend, I found an invitation as clear as daylight.

I should have never showed up.

But here I am.

Facing them, drawn to them, again.

Feeding on my weak heart.

Telling me to dig them up from the ground.

Promising me what I couldn’t achieve yet, alone.

Promising me again, that I needed them.

And I’m tempted to give in.

But the last time I did that, it didn’t turn out well.

And the recovery was painful.

So I stand there, silently crying,

Waiting,

Searching for the strength within me

To pull me away from that cemetery

To get over the dead.

To make peace with my living self.

I stand there trembling.

Afraid to let go.

Afraid to be alone.

1+?=1

I don’t think I understand love

the way I should.

I mean,

I understand the whole passionate feeling;

been there, done that,

but I’m mostly talking about

how love can get out of control,

out of your control;

doing reckless things unintentionally,

then realising how shameless you may look,

spilling words that leave you embarrassed and heated up,

hiding more important words,

words that need to be said, but you’re too conscious of the situation.

Okay, I guess I do understand the main concepts.

Concepts driven by the heart, solely.

But it’s been a long time since I’ve experienced that,

an experience that changed the way I see love,

changed the way I act when it comes to such feelings.

All because I’ve made a promise to myself;

I promised I’d never love again without consulting my brain,

that I’d never trust my heart because it can be easily deceived.

That if I suspected love has come for me again,

then I’d think hard if it was love for the person

or respect

or love for the idea of having someone there

or boredom.

And if it was love, then I’d confess.

If it’s not mutual, then accept friendship – assuming the other party still wants to be friends –

If it’s not mutual and they slip away, then so be it.

If they reconnect, then connect back.

Love has become a logical equation,

with remnants of intense hidden feelings of disappointment, relief, satisfaction, and ongoing attachment.