Anything but a romantic

The thought that you might be capable of living without me haunts so much that even if I don’t want to, the strongest of hopes that I gather fades away and withers into the dark of nothingness.

Please do not take me for a romantic because I choose to not be known by that or make it one of my identities. I am a rational person that’s why I choose to not be a romantic. However, I have a fling for theatrics and a habit of turning momentous moments into dramatic ones that I cannot stay clear from writing like that.

Every turn of the page, every pink coloured sky, every syllable of your beautiful name, reminds of the things we joyously shared. For the things that we cannot hold true in real, we can always weave them perfectly in our imaginations. But my imaginations fail to credit you, for you are far too good in real to fit into it. What an irony of life! I thought at least I would preserve you in my thoughts, yet you relentlessly try to be so good that you slip away from there too.

What a tragedy it is to live without love! But again, there are far more greater miseries in life that we cannot turn a blind eye to and at least it creates a space of fruitful distraction that will not bring us to ruin.

I speak as though I have a great deal of understanding of the mechanics of romantic relationships, or that I have too much of an experience to contribute meaningfully in imparting any hidden secrets and tips for take away. On the contrary, as an individual, I try to explore the corners of my mind that have been left untouched by certain experiences or just explore the creativity it brings along with itself by being just curious. One of the greatest joys in life is to do what I want to without hurting anyone and also while not having to give explanations for thinking in a particular line of thoughts. But then again Readers, who would have any trouble with finding and honoring a little love?

Until next time, Readers ❤