We all tend to love in extremes, to let our heart lead rather than our head. It is no wonder that balance has never come natural to humans- never has. We are all still trying to figure out the perfect balance between attachment and detachment.
The ache of another night realizing that these two hearts do not beat for one another. The pain of another morning yearning to wake up next to someone who cares.
We are problem-solving machines, so naturally, in the absence of real problems, we cannot help but create our own problems. Perhaps we will never be free of problems, whether real or imaginary.
Solitude is calling to me again. She calls to me on those dire nights and I always answer her siren song. She knows when I am drained, detached or drowning and will lift me from the depths in my time of need.
Does heartbreak keep track of time? Years have passed and yet the cracks will not subside. Time has a way of morphing heartbreak and grief into a loneliness- a shadow that follows me around. At least now I know that the answer is yes.
Sometimes the need to want hits me like meteor and I am knocked off course into the void of cold memories and the emptiness of loss. Once again, I am left to find my way back to my sun.
Loneliness isn't when others aren't there for you, it is when you are not there for yourself. If you cannot be there for yourself in a world of billions- that is true loneliness.
No one should be responsible for your happiness. No one should bear that pressure- not your partner, nor family, nor friends. Only you can determine it, and with that happiness, you share it with those who deserve it.
Who are you when the doors close and you're left with your shadow and silence? Who are you when no one is looking- no eyes or judgement on the way you conduct yourself for everyday life? Who are you when there are no likes, no comments and no audience? Who are you really?
It has been too long- time is still passing, yet the memories still remain, sometimes clear as day, sometimes like a dream. But the longing to return to you has created a galaxy within me that no amount of stars except your radiance can illuminate.
Perhaps the red flags only become visible after the end. But what if there was no end? What if you look back on the would-be red flags as simply milestones that show how much your partner has matured and grown?
This life is really not so poetic. It's dreary and empty, and almost ordinary. These poems are but therapy- an attempt to make sense of this world and all emotions that come with living in it. They're a coping mechanism to work through the pain and better understand oneself.
Maybe you will survive when the storm is over but you will never be the same. It will leave you broken and scattered, like the ruins of a city and uprooted like its trees. Only a wasteland will remain, to which you will have to refill with lessons learnt.
It's the solitary nights I cherish the most. The silence and shadows, the thoughts and theories- these are the things that keep this heart beating- this is what it's all about.
Sometimes I think about all the places I could have gone but never did, wondering what versions of me I would have met in all of these countless possibilities.
I think a part of us knew this was never meant to last, and how could it? We were too different- two worlds colliding, and yet we did not care. We let love prevail- it was too strong to deny.
Just know that you are not the only one going through this all-too-human and inevitable pain. The grief, the loss, the unbearable weight of it all. Just know that you do not have to carry it all on your own.
Every moment we have spent together will live in me forever. These moments are ours, and mine alone, living in between each heartbeat and behind every smile until the end.
Winter is hard when you have so much love and you are not here to receive it. Nothing illuminates the darkness, nothing warms the coldness and nothing thaws the ice from this heart when you are not here as my sun.
January smelt of sorrow- it usually does. For what, I do not know, but every year I hope to figure it out and make sure to avoid it in twelve months. Oh well, better luck next year.