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Summer, Day 1.
Do you know how much I love you?
One day you will.
One day you will.
I haven't even seen you yet,
but I am so in love with you.

When the time comes for us to finally be together, I will drive us somewhere outside this concrete jungle to ask you that. Then I will tell you to look at the stars, and you will try to count them, even if you already know that not enough stars were created to compare it to.

Darling, I dance and I sing and I shake in delight at the thought of being with you. I'm a morning person now, because I know that every waking moment is one day closer to forever.

Summer, Day 2.
I have sworn to save every part of this heart for you. I've loved before, but not like this. Not like this. My stone-heart now made flesh beats as if I'd just been born, as if I'd been made to love and to be loved by you.

Summer, Day 3.
I can't believe you chose me. I can't believe I'm going to get to marry you. We've got quite a long way to go, but I'm already preparing, making sure my dress will be as white as snow, every hair in place, this heart pure and this body untouched until the day I put my hand in yours. I can't wait to see your face when I walk down the aisle. I promise to be the perfect bride, your perfect bride.

Fall, Day 1.
I might not write as much as I did during the summer. Life has been getting busier and busier, but I want you to know that I still love you as much as I did from the first day.

Fall, Day 46.
I've been spending quite a bit of time with someone. He's clever and says the most interesting things. I feel like we will never run out of words to say to one another. We talk everyday, and the funny thing is sometimes I feel my day isn't complete yet if we haven't spoken. Don't worry, my heart is still yours. Just thought I'd let you know.

Fall, Day 52.
I think I love him, but just a little bit. I'm sorry, but I'm going to have to cut an inch off of my heart to give to him. It's just an inch less. Surely you won't mind.

Fall, Day 80.
He's been with someone else this entire time. It's a good thing I gave him only an inch of my heart, but the rest is bruised. Don't worry, darling, I'll have it fixed in time.

Fall, Day 100.
It's still beating, but barely. Maybe I should love a little again. Maybe some warmth will do this heart good.

Winter, Day 15.
I think... I gave a little too much.

Winter, Day 50.
My latest disaster said my heart was something worth waiting for. Apparently his second hands tick faster than the usual. He left, taking more than I expected he would.

Winter, Day 65.
Is a heart supposed to look like this?

Winter, Day 90.
I can no longer hear it beating steadily. Some parts have frozen. I have tried to stitch pieces back together and they hold... if you would call it that. There are scars and cuts that haven't healed, swollen bits from the wounds that were infected because I tried to save the poison only to have it lash out and bite me in the back.

Winter, Day 104.
What have I done?

Winter, Day 135.
Look at it. No wait, don't. There isn't anything left to give you, anything worthy enough to even stand in your shadow. I promised you everything now I give you nothing. You waited for me yet I pursued others, consumed by my lust and my pride, where can I hide that I myself will not see this mess of a heart I've created? Where can I run to that I will not have to see the look on your face when you see what I have left to give you? Do you still want this, this broken vessel, this torn up heart, all the pieces that don't fit, all the stitched up parts? Do you still want me?

Spring, Day 1.
You do.

Spring, Day 3.
You do because you knew what you were getting yourself into long before you met me, you knew I would break your heart yet you still asked for mine, you do because you are love itself. A death defeating, grave shaking, forgiving, full of grace and mercy, life and righteousness kind of love. This is the love that chose me. Now I choose you.

Spring, Day 5.
What have I done to deserve this? As far as the east is from the west, so you have cleared my offense. When others asked for me, they knelt on one knee but you asked nailed to a tree. Now here you are. Despite what I've done you want me to return to you, want me to still have you. And you know what?

Spring, Day 7.
I do. And I give my heart to you in absolute surrender and total abandon. Here, though broken and torn, take it and make it new.
It was yours all along. I was yours all along.
A piece written for Logos' Vessel under Fringe Manila.
 Aug 2017 Sudharshan
Saksham Garg
The emotion called emotion set out to look at the world one day,
He thought he’d take the day off to make some merry and gay,
Strolling by he entered a village farm and the animals all jumped,
They’d never seen an emotion like him; they couldn’t understand what they felt,
Emotion ran away from there, leaving the animals feeling nothing but bummed,
The emotion called emotion went to unwind at the bar nearby,
He guessed at least his fast friend alcohol would love to have him drop by,
As soon as the pub’s door opened and he set foot inside,
All heads turned, and colour drained from their hides,
Alcohol shouted to his pal ‘run from here o emotion; the people in here I beguile’,
‘I keep them away from all emotion; all I told you about happiness around me was a lie’,
The emotion was confused, it was something he’d never felt before,
He was a straight thinker, he’d always been so sure,
As he was strutting down the road, all lost in thought and head in cloud,
The emotion stumbled upon a great saint; busy in meditation, wrapped in a saffron shroud,
He considered talking advice and expressed desire to enter the saint’s psyche,
Then quietly he was shown to the saint’s wisdom, through a secret passage deep deep inside,
There he sought answers to his quest; he asked the wise one in all earnest:
‘Why do people fear me? I never let them to sorrow or pain...’
‘I am a simple emotion; I never put them under any strain....’
The wisdom replied: ‘why do I meet you in here old friend? Why this secrecy you must wonder...’
‘Herein lies the answer to all your queries, I keep away from you so I can think and ponder.’
“I am free of you so am known as the wise one, if I let you in it’ll spoil all the fun.
Although I know you’re right, you are the simplest and so you beget happiness on a platter.
But to comprehend you, one must be free of you and that’s how you complicate matters,
If one were to always listen to you I would be lost, I would become secondary and I can’t bear that cost.
That is why we don’t meet old’ friend, it is for my significance that you must disappear,
But in search of happiness people get confused between you and me and then it is you they have to fear...”
The emotion called emotion was not satisfied with this response,
Seeing this, the wisdom went back to his own trance.
“You seem troubled my dear, but there is no need to be;
Go back home, get to work and let me get to mine,
Be the guy you were, frolicking, wandering and always carefree,
It’s almost dawn now, go rise and shine.”
The emotion called emotion quietly took the saint’s advice,
He went off home to being who he always was in a trice.
Things went back to normal, no work was stalled,
The only lesson he learned was:
That “an emotion never thinks at all”
That “An emotion never thinks at all......”
Question:- What hurt you the most?
Answer:-** My own thoughts.

— The End —