@Rimsha 27 November 2020

Terrible Love!

you ask “what terrible love means?” to my “love stories are always terrible.” and i sit there silent with so much to say. while you say “stop presuming things on your own, you indulge yourself too much in muse” how do i tell that the things bothering me so much aren't actually the lunacy at all but the actuality of realism? we go on for hours and hours, mornings chirp along the edges of livelihood and our nights are gladly romanticized by the gentle songs of love. And i fear, i fear what if we will unfortunately be out of topics someday? what if these small details of days wiill mold themselves into ‘just fine’ texts? what if it will be exasperating to tell that it is somewhat burdening us both? we sit for hours and hours, the sunshines and sunsets remarkes of how we proceeded another day, how at the costly prices of ego we fortunately managed to have hand in hand And I fear, I fear what if one day the rate of egos will outpass the love within? what if the arguments will replace themselves with heart wrenching screams following infuriating silence? what if sitting next to each other we will find ourselves kilometers away? now when we feel like we have fallen out of topics to discuss, when it is clear to us that neither me nor you is interested in sharing our perspectives with reference to the political or social hereabouts, or about how this person, we fell for broke our heart and how it all doesn't hurt the same. you see, lies a terrible love. “are you okay” and in between the gaps of blackout I realize what is it. It isn't the one which just selfishly leaves but the one which stays there silently and shatters every inch of you but then it is of no use since you will lack the gut to recognize it anymore “what on the earth made you think i am not?” I reply. **Thanks For Reading.**