The plastic window strained with fog. The monotony broken only by the the tourist drop pouring down from some love bound infinite land above us.
As some romantics like to say, the sky crying in the memory of its loved one.
The two types of romantics.
The petty ones.
The classic ones.
Continuing the story, ….
She looked through those droplets out on the wet streets, footprints embarked of the coupling of two birds that went on singing their sonnet.
I have grown up with these petty lines, that are drained completely of their souls.
The hopeless pathetic lost love,
……. everybody cares, when it’s too late.
…….. If I treated you the way, you treated me, you’d hate me.
and all about fake love and missing and crying and killing yourself for a mere crush you had.
Believe me, most people, are not really in love and seeking the thorough shelter of these mismatched words, takes them to the illusion of some desperate crush. Which they presume to be love.
And as easily as that, they begin again with someone else all over again.
I beg you to not torture these innocent words in such a miscalculated equation, which is like maths we do in schools, pointless.
Like all maths is not pointless, some people actually do want to be mathematicians and use their knowledge of maths in their life, just as some people actually take love seriously.
If one wants to use words to describe their feelings of love, they need to create specimen that is sacred and speaks its volume, that has a blossom soul that flourishes the minds of every blood sack that transverse through it, to the most profoundly beautiful land enriched with the aurora of rose.
Love is a religion, above all religions, an embodiment of all the religions that are out there. And yet it is only a psychological desperate emotion.
Only seldom it happens that anyone falls in love, in true love, as the phrase goes, I’m falling in love, with you.
And it ends in some unfortunate events. The dreaded ending comes before expected.
Normally, in such conditions, it is a common thought to fall out of love to end the misery of not being able to be with the one you love. And off course as the reason suggests, you ought to move on because the one you loved would not like to see you in misery.
You see the bolded text above, is one of the many biggest failures of human nature. The need to turn everything, in the self satisfied mold.
This thought pattern is completely wrong.
Love is not something you can fall out of. If you truly fall in love and allow yourself to feel that love, knowing the uneasiness that will follow because of unfulfilled desires of heart.
It is not a misery, that you feel when you are not met with the one you are supposedly supposed to love, it is an uneasiness, an unfulfilled desire. It is how we see this, depends on us, as pain or heartbreak.
But bear in mind, it is not misery, rather somethings to cherish, of your beautiful self and the soul of the person whose existence among the billions and millions of others causes you such complex desires.
Yourself needs to be cherished because of your ability to love so pure. Emphasis, pure.
And off course the soul that has built itself so beautiful, that you had been willing to give away the magnificent kingdom of heaven, that posses within you. The smell of that soul, made you serve Jerusalem on the silver platter.
Sink that in. slowly. feel it.
The second point, to move on, to diminish the memory of the one you have loved and began a new. Let me ask you, Do you have any idea about the mental strength it requires to begin anything again from scratch? and you talk about choosing to love another soul completely.
Mate, for that, you first need to win back the Jerusalem you have already presented to someone else.
You were no longer Jerusalem, They were.
Did you take it back from them?
Or will you build a new Jerusalem too?
The point in simple words is, once you fall in love, you can never move on or kill those feelings. The only thing that can be done, is making peace with loss you have suffered and keep those feeling alive, to haunt you, to sing you sonnets of the beautiful memories you have created.
Stop trying to move on. If you truly were in love, that love will never leave you. Never. Beauty of the faith. Once you believe something, always in some concurred corner of your unconscious it resides, forever ready to rise again.
And P.S your lover would not want you to forget them either.
Would you like to be forgotten by someone who once loved you or someone you once loved?
Predictably enough, the human nature is selfish, at first.
And before I end, love is not for the opposite gender, Love, my dear friends can be for anything you want it to be for.
As she moved in those moments of tranquilizing beauty, she thought of the lives she had loved and somehow, her chest felt as if it might explode, but she smiled at the thought, her own joke and understanding of herself.
She wouldn’t explode, it was the beauty of the things she felt.
Love was never fatal; my love.