She doesn’t understand how it stopped, or why it stopped. She wouldn’t dare try to understand it. She wouldn’t dare ask why. She is used to this anyway. She is used to pinpricks, sharp things that pinched everytime her heart pulses. In a canvas of color where she is just a speck, how can she matter? She shrugs the thought away. For her, it isn’t a lesson if it doesn’t come harshly. She has chapters of those written down, like ink forever flowing in the veins of her void.
Life annoys her, because to live is to experience loss. To live is to have people abandon you. To live is to abandon. People are like rocks in the sea. They might save you in a storm, but sometimes from beneath the waves they jut out and impale you to the depths. Of course, she wishes things were different. But she can’t appeal to hearts any more than she can appeal to the ruins of a boat.
She stares at the gulf outside her window and the darkness she beholds seems apropos. Somewhere in the middle of those tides, islands are being swallowed. Nothing can repair earthquakes beneath the sea. Nothing can bring back the drowned. It’s almost the same with the people she trusts. At some point they become like water. You cannot bend an ocean to your will. You cannot direct a storm.
So instead she writes her life on seashells, hoping the words will emerge as pearls. But there is nothing in the shore but foam. And even that quickly disappears in the surf.
Nothing lasts forever: life, love, happiness, everything you can think of. Each and every relationship is a contract that has a set of conditions and warranty end dates. Our memory is a reminder that we can’t reverse the time and there are things we can never get back. Therefore, shields are created, defense mechanisms materialize, and truths and lies blend into a brew that becomes as unassuming and deadly as quick sand.
We put distance between us and everyone else because we’re hurting and after awhile our defense mechanism takes over our brain. We get used to believing that loneliness is the ultimate fate to which we are headed, that anything we’ve ever done to disprove it had only contributed to its enormity. Loneliness becomes larger than life itself and we learn nothing is ever worth the risk.
But if nothing lasts forever, then perhaps loneliness has its own due date. After all, we can always flip the hourglass to start another cycle. Everything that sets is bound to rise again. Every hour is a journey. Every day is an unknown territory we have no choice but trek. Every hurt is a path to the sweetness of healing.
Everyone leaves. Yet, we find ourselves tracing those little steps that will bring us back to what we know is true: that people change, but love doesn’t; that people fades away but the memory friendship lasts like painful thorn stuck in your flesh; that expectations lead to bitterness but also to what unconditional really means; that people aren’t perfect, but aren’t imperfect all the same.
There is no optimism or pessimism. There are no half-empties and half-fulls. There is only that empty glass that can be filled with anything: water, blood, wine, pain, love. And all the other possibilities in between.
1. Are her lips like the hot chocolate your mother made
During the winter months when you were seven?
Or have you not tasted her well enough to find the fine granules of cocoa that lightly come with each kiss?
2. Do you know her favorite songs?
Not when she is happy, but when she is sad.
What music reaches inside her ribcage and softly consoles her heart?
3. When she is sad, are you on the phone or are you at her door?
Words do not wipe away tears, fingers do.
4. Do you know all the things that keep her up at night?
Do you know why she has gone three days without sleep?
Do you know of the insurmountable waves of sadness that wash over her like a tsunami?
5. Do you know the things to say that will calm her heartbeat? The places to touch? The places to love?
6. Everytime you see her do you kiss her like it’s the last time but love her like it’s the first?
7. Do you love her?
8. Do you love her?" -"Things I Want To Ask Your Boyfriend" - Nishat Ahmed
Base By: Jahrenesis