I keep promising myself that this will be the last time I write to you, and everytime I prove myself wrong.
I keep telling myself this pain will cease, and everytime Life proves me wrong.
Maybe someday time will trick me into forgetting your smile. Someday you might just remain a moment I captured in poetry, a line, a fragile sigh, but nothing palpable. In all those knotted cells of my brain, you might cease to be an impulse. I know I will forget you someday, but how do I forget myself? How do I forget the warmth your presence filled me with, the nervousness, the happiness, those palpitations, anticipations? How exactly do I forget these feelings? How do I let them go, and reduce me to nothing more than a void?
How do I run away from myself? How many days will I lie to myself that someday you will be mine? I do not how to live without hopes.
There are hours I sit back, it doesn’t rain, there are no stars, and I drag every torn lyric to my heart, and watch me bleed on the inside. I cannot breathe. You say you care. Then why can’t you heal me?
I wonder if at all I will someday stop loving you, love someone else and be happy again. I might love again, but this pain, will it ever subside? Will I ever be able to feel the same about someone else? No. I know I will never be able to superimpose another face on yours. I love you simply because I do not know how not to. Without any reason. Perhaps without even asking you to love me back.
At times, it is as if this intolerable longing is what holds me to you. I cling to it, scared that I might lose you if I didn’t.
I wish I could find a way out of my head. In all the literature I have read, love hurt, it hurt pretty bad, but it never killed. But now when I look at myself in the mirror, I see a different face, eyes that have never known to smile. Eyes without secrets. Eyes that are not mine.
This Love, it doesn’t let me die.