Have you ever heard the sound of your own heart breaking? Or
felt it crumble inside your chest just as the mask melted off your lover's face
and those liquid pools of illusion began to reflect all of your
misgivings? The hardest thing, then, is not walking away.... The hardest thing
is figuring out why you ignored the red herrings all along. And then, it slowly
dawns on you that the biggest liar was not the stunning object of your desire.
The biggest liar has always been you, for continuing to tell yourself that things were fine even when your gut told you otherwise. But then, your gut is also the one responsible for placing you in the present scheme of things - deeply in love with someone who can never love you in the way you want. All along, you thought you were following your heart when, in fact, it was your gut.
Hearts belong in bubble-wrapped fantasies, where no harm can reach them. For, hearts are not the purveyors of love. That would have to be the sole
occupation of guts. The ones that shake you up, tearing you inside out and
then, handing you over on a platter for the world to see. It takes guts to love
someone completely and render yourself useless in the process, just as it takes
a single match to bring a forest down to its knees.
And so you rage and burn, your love pulsating through the landscape of this human existence. That fire alters the very fibre of your being and cleanses the darkest corners of your soul. You're reduced to ashes by the end of it but until then, you live your life in complete flames. You know no other way to live or love or even be loved in return. You are no longer thinking, you are just feeling... whether soaked in the warmth of the morning sun or late at night when you can no longer contain your thoughts. How then, do you dial back to a time when the forest was full and the trees were green and the skies were clear, but the love that fuels you now hadn't begun to exist. How then, do you go back to a time when you hadn't yet tasted your lover's soul and couldn't even see where he began and you ended?
And so you rage and burn, your love pulsating through the landscape of this human existence. That fire alters the very fibre of your being and cleanses the darkest corners of your soul. You're reduced to ashes by the end of it but until then, you live your life in complete flames. You know no other way to live or love or even be loved in return. You are no longer thinking, you are just feeling... whether soaked in the warmth of the morning sun or late at night when you can no longer contain your thoughts. How then, do you dial back to a time when the forest was full and the trees were green and the skies were clear, but the love that fuels you now hadn't begun to exist. How then, do you go back to a time when you hadn't yet tasted your lover's soul and couldn't even see where he began and you ended?
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