Wednesday, March 15

In the battle of love, I am nobody’s doorstep


The bittersweet truth of late night conversations are the words that make love under the sheets of thunderous reality and the solace that comes with 3 am wishful thinking. Of all the modal auxiliaries, can is the most disappointing. Your self deception wants you to keep living the present, stretching it slowly to make the moment last as long as possible, whereas the excruciating pain of reality keeps coming back in form of WH questions. Reactions and responses carry a certain amount of weight; I don't wish to carry some along. The idea was never to relinquish what we have, but the weight of the aspect that we can't. Once you've tasted authenticity, there's no fear, there's no doubt. Certain people become a part of your story and your life is never the same. You are allowed to miss the person you once were without wanting to be them again. No feeling is final, so let us flow with the tide, whether into or away from each other, until we find a box and name it 'safe place' so that we can throw our worries in there, instead of everywhere else. No matter when we let go, it will hurt, so shouldn't we float in this moment longer and make it worth the pain?

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