And,

And, the worst part of it all, you’ll still love them. You will love them with every single vein that flows below your skin scarred by their touch. You will continue to breathe hoping they’ll embrace your cold body, but you know it too, they won’t. Your chocolate coloured eyes saw them vanish like smoke fading into air. Your kohl lined eyes saw them disappear like autumn leaves falling. Oh, how your teary vision saw them fade away, just like the water fades away the paint. The neurons of your brain will be left dazed by the glitter of their magnificent sly disappearance. The weight of your tears will hold you down until you feel suffocated and out of breath. The humongous weight of the false vows will keep you strangled to the cold, hard ground. Screaming, crying won’t help you anymore. The ringing voices of the late night conversations will haunt you till your mind gives in. It’ll be like pulling out a cruise liner from the stormy sea with a weak rope, impossible. Or at least it’ll seem. Their absence, will prick you like a million needles. That grey hoodie that you kept from the first date, will burn in the back of your closet, the flames will remind you of their cologne. And, the worst, you’ll feel the miserable pain but sans physical and visible bruises. You’ll feel your mind go numb, your heart ache, lumps in your throat and yet you won’t be diagnosed with a medical term. This, my friend, is the minor pain of a heart-break. Like your heart beat that holds you together, yet is invisible, this heartache will rip you apart, yet, it’ll stay hidden behind the veil of a minor inconvenience. It’ll catch you every time you’ll get ahead of it. It’ll find you even in the farthest corners of your safe and happy woodland of thoughts. Poor thing, this feeling will delude your senses faster than any bottle of alcohol. This emptiness will grope the slightest strand of love in your shadow. The winter of your heartsick misery will surpass your joys of wonderful summery days by the beach. This feeling of loving someone and then being dropped like a hot potato, will turn your nights into horror lands. Yet, visit to this miserable place is inevitable. Their absence will encompass your entire existence. And, the worst, to the world, you’ll have to put up a brave front. Because, in the end you’re 21 and he was just another boy. You’ll have to put up a facade because at 17 nobody can taste love so deep. In the end, you’ll learn to wear yet another mask. This, well, this will be just another story behind the mask you’ll put up

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2 thoughts on “And,

  1. The excruciating pain who mentioned in this write-up could be felt.
    Love displays different color in different phases of life. What a 21 years old thinks or feels about love will probably be entirely different than what she will will feel about it at 30 or more.

    Liked by 1 person

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