Before I could fathom, comprehend, react and resist, as I always do, I had become comfortable in the warmth that I didnt want to close the door.
This time will be different, I told my wounded heart.This time feels different.
And so it did. Or so I thought.
We spent hours in a conversation that never ended.
You were the one who made me fall for your voice.
You were the one who made me see the stars in rain.
You were the one who made me forget my pain.
You were the one, who left.
No, I didn’t love you. It feels wrong to say that I did, or do, because now you are somewhere else with someone else.
No I didn’t love you, not fully, not completely atleast.
But I loved you enough to be devasted by the end of our tryst.
No it wasn’t love, was there even affection, I question now. Was it just me, or was there a bit of you too?
I am not certain, nor will I ever ask.
And even if there was, I am sure it was your mask.
For you, my darling who, became the sunshine that brings the rain.
I didn’t want this to be the same.