One day, I swore to myself… I would stop writing about you. Romanticizing everything about you. Making you my muse and a mystery I am ready to explore for the rest of my life. Looking, thinking, and hearing everything related to you.
I thought It would get easier like that. Erasing the best being that ever crossed my life and made it worthwhile. Deleting everything, there is about you.
Felt numb for a few days. No pain. No love. And certainly no happiness. Thought I had made peace with it. Thought, finally, I was able to exist without your shadow haunting me everywhere I went.
But, right now, I realize that the truth is, I don’t need to write, romanticize, or make you my muse and my own personalized mystery. Nor do I need to look, think, and hear something related you.
Your sole existence, even from afar, consumed me in a way no other human being had ever been. Making me devoted. Bewitched me. Aching my body and soul. Drained my tears. Inflicted my veins.
I never thought that a fondness for someone could ever be this… magnificent. But it is… as you are extraordinarily exquisite.
And now, I’m on a fine line… Between fighting for you and letting you go. Between running towards you and staying put. Between missing you and hating you for giving up. Between calling you and swallowing everything that allows me to sleep. Between in love and in pain.
