It’s not goodbye

They have been in love ever since they know each other. What separates them is a city, an incorporeal yet inscrutable barrier of orthodoxy. However different their life has been from each other, they have found the belongingness which they have been longing for in their moments of solidarity and solitude.

And it entered them, like a breath of fresh air. Those feelings which left their evenings inebriated, clicking glasses of red wine lying in the sand of an alienated beach, observing the golden streams of sunlight setting calmly as the moist mistral pass by. Nights which were filled with quiet stillness as the leaves of the trees were carrying slight traces of silver moonlight, under those trees, the euphoria filled their senses up as the kiss has returned the laughter in the woods to the silence.

They embarked this journey where they explored their destiny, as they travelled together, alone and with other important people in their lives, where they used to hold hands behind the bench and steal a kiss when they find a moment. Without losing each other, they found themselves. And they took these moments along with them as the journey further endured. And with every dot they connected, they knew, “Lovers don’t finally meet somewhere. They are in each other all along.”

It was not until past the point of no return that they could apprehend that there is nothing more satiating than an ordinary love.

But did I say destiny? Even though they thought they are not losing their own fragrance whilst being colored in togetherness, it got them. Because no one ever knew to draw a line and be themselves, for love asks you to lose yourself and soak up the spontaneity.  You don’t choose to become helpless while being in love. It finds you.

And though they forgot how to live without each other, that was the only option left. Because life doesn’t stop for others while it has been paused for them that moment onwards. There will always be errands to be ran, bills to be settled, calls to be made. And amid all the desperation of gaining what is already lost and holding themselves together barely with tape and glue, they pose a quick glance at their phone contacts and wonder if anyone can make them feel better about the situation and shake them well to get up and find that it was just a dream, this would not happen. Because, everyone told them, “You deserved better, and better things will come along your way”. I feel that’s a pretty condescending statement and degrades the value of every thought and effort ever put in the relationship. Because there will always be better. But what if I like my flawed perception of perfection and don’t want any better. And that’s how melancholy got the best of them.

That night when she saw him helpless and knew she couldn’t help it for the first time in years. She was staring at him with a gut-wrenching intensity. It didn’t come across to her as her fate. In between everything, life had graced them with few moments of enchantment, without even asking for it. And yet she was still seeking for more of them while clinging to the reminiscence of the ones that they have already lived.

Her eyes kept asking him, “So, is this it?”

She kept moving her fingers intricately through the castle of sand they have built together. She was still caressing his arm while he was trying to tug her hair strand behind the ears that was dangling on her face. It felt phenomenal. She hoped she could be cynical. But all she could ever become was a naive die-hard romantic.

“Did you ever wonder that all this time, you have given too much to the wrong person and not enough to the right ones?”, he asked. 

But who decides what’s right for you? Possibly that is the only way we are supposed to find ourselves. Every time someone leaves, they take a part of me and they give me a part of theirs. And I’ll never be the same ever again, though I might become better or worse, but not the same. And maybe, just maybe, when I’ll find all the parts, I will unearth myself as a different person than who I expected to become. However, that’s what I was supposed to become. Maybe love will rescue us all. Until then, we will look for it in the ways we can, hoping that it will protect us against everything we might become without it.

I see myself years from now, not moved on. I am terrible at ending things and for sure I’ll be lamenting the unfinished love and scraping the wounds that were not healed even after years. Unanswered prayers and unmet expectations watching from far off, almost mocking the intensity with which I shattered myself with something which was not even real.

And just because I can live without something, doesn’t mean I should. Just because this is not going to last, doesn’t mean it shouldn’t exist. For love in its purest form can be felt and elevated even in the plight of separation. While being estranged, we achieve new statures of affection. As is being said and I quote, “Goodbyes are only for those who love with their eyes. Because for those who love with heart and soul there is no such thing as separation.”

If you ask me, what will I gain anyway from feeling this intensely about people who have most likely forgotten me by now? How do I tell you, it’s because I don’t know, how to leave. I have loved with everything I have got, which means, regardless of the wreckage, this makes me what I am. I just smile. And those who know me, can say, i am someone who has been vanquished by love, believing that love can be both magnificent but tragic at the same time.

But given a chance, I could change anything about all these years, I think of all those wonderful times, when I couldn’t have been happier. Well then, no matter how fucked up, I choose him.

And one day while sitting just across the sea on sidewalks, we will meet and think of all the good and bad times, and I will know to myself, if nothing else, I make one hell of a lover. That’s got to count for something, right?

I believe attachment has damaged every one of us with its depth and intensity. Some of us, however, are never going to budge on discovering the magnificence in all that it brought to the lives. What did I ever do to become such a person?

And I think of all the times he said those things. And I wonder if I will hear them again from him.

 

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