Three, two, one.

They slept together for three nights. They didn’t make love but love was everywhere in the room, unbeknownst to them.

They explored each other’s bodies and minds the first night, unravelling a little bit of the mystery that enveloped them. It was a heady feeling, freefalling in to someone like that. He traced tattoos on her skin with his slender fingers and she shuddered with emotions that she never even knew existed. His eyes were ocean blue and she had to come up for air lest she drowned in them. And in the dark with only their voices to light the room, they fell asleep to the unfamiliar and lovely feeling of having a warm person in their arms. Before he left that morning, he briefly and lovingly cupped her socked foot as she lay on the brim of a delightful half-asleep dream.

They were more playful the second night and they pushed the boundaries as far as they would go. It was fire and water, teasing and appeasing. Lips made to kiss, eyes made to adore and hands made to evoke sensations that lay dormant for decades. After a while, they quietened down and succumbed to sleep. She had always been a fitful and restless sleeper, worse if she had to share the bed with someone. But he didn’t feel like someone else in her bed, just an extension of herself. She fell asleep quickly, deeply and peacefully. But even in the depths of her sleep, she would feel him wake up and find his way to her in the middle of the night. It was heaven on earth.

On the third night, they decidedly ignored the sadness that permeated the air. He watched her pack her suitcases and waited for her to be done so they could sink in to each other. They fell in to a banter that felt too familiar for a romance that had blindsided them. Somewhere between her soft singing voice and his light dancing fingers, tender glances conveyed what could not be put in to words.

Three, two, one.

And as though a spell had been cast, love was born.

How it began.

Her hands were always cold. And this particular night, they felt like they were dying. She had told him this and then held out her hand so that he could feel it for himself. It was a casual invitation that hid her sudden inexplicable desire to touch him. Later that night, he hid behind the same simple action to touch her cold fingers yet again.

The pavements were slick with rain and mirrored the tiny lights that only a city could hold; everyday mundane lights rendered magical by eyes that were glazed with adoration. She was freezing but her heart was racing and it kept her warm. Something electric and unnamed hung in the air between him and her.

They took shelter under a store porch as they waited for the sudden downpour to die. She could feel his eyes on her, could feel the thoughts shifting in his head as he was drawing up an opinion about her. It did not worry her. It was a strange and welcome reprieve. She was usually in a perpetual state of worry about one thing or the other.

She found herself unable to look at him as she struggled for words to say good night. He moved forward to hug her and she fell in to the embrace. As they withdrew from each other, her hair caught a little bit in his jacket and was slow to let go. So did her heart. Nothing had changed really but everything was different. She had silenced her heart and blindfolded her eyes for several years but every part of her was awake and alive now.

Forget-me-not?

The sting of unrequited love is hard to brush away. It’s such a gut-wrenching feeling to fall for someone and then find out you can never do anything about it.

Whether they’re already spoken for or they don’t feel the same way for you – it’s a feeling akin to having your hands and feet tied and your mouth gagged when your favourite song in the world is playing.

And you told me to stay with you
Darling I want you too
Maybe if we were still young then I’d be the one for you too
Maybe when all these fears don’t mean anything to you, my dear
Maybe then you’ll realise that you’ll never find a love
Oh, a love
A love like mine.

-The Chase

You can’t shove your feelings down their throat. And you don’t know where else to stow them away.

You wait for the day when the feelings will fade away like they have before. There’s a small voice in your head that says it’s different this time. And because this wonderful person is not yours to take home, you enshrine every mundanely human thing they did in your museum of loved and lost.

Optimists will tell you that it is a privilege to love someone and the experience is the gift in itself.

Pessimists will tell you that it is an inevitable part of your life, to have your heart taken out and stomped by life every now and then.

I’ll be a little bit of both.

I’ll tell you that perhaps finding the capacity to love someone who won’t be able to love you is selfless.

Definitely stupid and painful. But also affection at its purest.

And there’s something to be said for that when there seems to be an abundance of untrue and impure feelings rampant in the world.

Serendipity.

I wasn’t looking for you when I found you, my love.

You said may be what I was feeling was a projection of who I wanted you to be.

You said that you were nothing special.

I know I said I don’t have a reason for why I feel the way I do about you. But now that you’re not mine anymore, I can give you a million reasons why.

You laugh like a child. Your arms feel like home. You have beautiful, slender fingers. Fingers that have left tattoos on my skin. I remember how insanely blue your eyes were in the dark. Your smirk when you know I’ve surrendered. I was beautiful around you.

And when you called me in tears and breathless the day after we broke up, I realised you loved me just as much as I love you.

You said that you love me but you can’t match my love for you. That’s why we had to end. But love is not a competition.

How do you let go of someone who you believe is meant for you?

I can see what we could’ve been.

Darling dearest, you were my serendipity.

Heartbreak.

I’ve always been quite eloquent and I imagined I would be spitting out paragraphs of grief when I suffered true heartbreak. Imagine my surprise, when I found myself wordless instead.

I’ve been waiting to write this until I could gather my thoughts (and my wits) – until I could make sense of all the pain.

There existed a world before him. Now, every fucking song is now about him. I look for pieces of him in other people and places. I can’t go through every day without the memory of him weighing down my heart. No words of comfort or advice from friends or family penetrate my pain. Love comes when it comes. Healing happens when it happens.

I have profound love for music and after having my heart broken, I can’t help but think of all the love songs written. The inspiration behind all these beautiful songs is heartbreak. It’s staggering to think how much pain has been felt by earth. All this pain created so many songs, books and movies which resonated with millions of souls. Millions. It may be quite weird that I’m thinking of art as my heart lies in pieces but you  learn empathy through experiences like this.

Sunshine and sky.

the weight of your gaze on my grinning cheek. 

floaty hem of my floral skirt tripped you. 

looking for words to hold time in place. 

fuck never sounded so hot or so cool. 

strong and sure, sparkling eyes.

sunshine and sky to my rich earth.

the shortest linger of fingers. 

fell a little too deep in to your eyes. 

i could look at them all day. 

was it all in my head?

i’ll never know.

Happy.

Happiness! It feels like such an extravagant word. If happiness were a person, you’d expect it to waltz in to the room and announce itself loudly with pomp and flair. If you were to ask someone what they want in life or what they want from life, the answer you  would often receive is that they wish to be happy. It makes it seems like becoming happy is such an elusive state. As if something big and eventful had to happen in order to feel that feeling. In truth, happiness is inconspicuous and gentle. It creeps quietly in to your life and catches you unaware.

You could be folding clothes whilst bopping your head along to the song stuck in your head and struggle to name the emotion coursing through your steady heart. There’s nothing weighing on your mind and there’s no sick feeling in your gut. You have nowhere to be right now and no one is bothering you. You’ve done everything you could do today – maybe not everything you set out to do on that particular day, but that’s okay. You know you’ll get it done tomorrow. It’s cold outside but it’s the nice kind that feels like you’re being hugged by the clouds. You are in your own little world, a perfect little bubble and there’s got to be word for this feeling, right?

Well, stop searching! That’s happiness right there.

If only.

We tend to hinge our happiness on things and people. A long bus ride could have been more enjoyable if only we had brought along our earphones. A difficult day would have been less disheartening if only we had a special someone to talk to. A tiresome month could have been more tolerable if only we had lived somewhere it snowed. An uneventful year would have been so much better if only we had been able to take that vacation trip we wanted to.

Our happiness just riding on a trail of If Onlys. The things with If Onlys though, is that, once you actually manage to have that elusive person or place or thing, its magic fades away. And there you go, looking for another If Only. It’s a never-ending drama, which also makes your happiness a perpetually incomplete goal.

This whole ordeal just seems to stink ten times worse when you are scrolling through social media. Everyone else seems to be having a whale of time! If only I had that. If I had that person with me. If I had lived somewhere else. If I had gone somewhere else. I would have been happier. If only.

So what do we do?

Here’s how I deal with it: I try to squeeze out as much joy or peace out of any day that I can. Sure, I would love to go to Reykjavik. I would love to just drop everything and go. But hey, where I live isn’t so bad! The unyielding sunshine piercing through the trees! The petrichor! Amazing! I could paint! I could cuddle in with a book and a cup of tea! I could go to that cafe and gorge on garlic bread!

Whenever you think of If Onlys, try to think of the million Coulds you should do. The trick is to make yourself The Happy Place. When YOU become more interesting than a place or an idea or even a person, when YOU amaze yourself with the things that only YOU can do and when YOU become the source of your happiness…

My God, YOU would be a fearsome, wondrous thing to be behold.

Save you.

I came across this really profound post on Tumblr.

It’s okay to love yourself. It’s okay if you end up with yourself.

It’s okay to save yourself. It’s okay if all you can do in this lifetime is save yourself.

I’m just going to leave this here.

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