Don’t love me because you hate her.
Love me like you would have done if you would’ve met me before her.
Love me only that much that I deserve to be. Not a way far more than that only because she left.
People leave and new ones enter into our lives, not necessarily to replace them but to acquire a new place in our hearts.
Understand that she and me are different persons.
Love me the way I would like to be loved, not the way you did to her.
And I will love you the way which I feel will keep you happy.
I won’t follow her footsteps.
I believe I can fly and the day I start, I will not stop.
My wings are black, the colour of the bold. And why not, when they tell me to be fearless?
They help me roam valiantly, carefree about the highly opinionated society.
They give me confidence,
And tell me to be brave and not be afraid of obstacles.
I’m bright, full of colours.
I am a beauty.
These colours give me hope.
They tell me to be as happy outside as I am inside.
They inspire me to be as beautiful in heart as I’m on face.
They encourage me to spread my colours throughout the world…
For my happiness is infectious and colour, diffusible.
Her insecurities were far beyond his wildest imagination but he chose to stay; not to protect her from what she was afraid of, but to make her strong enough to face them.
He is wiser and worldlier.
So he guides her through the thorny way she walks on. He tells her to feel the wound caused by each piece of gravel, for, they would only sculpt her mind and body stronger and form memories worth remembering.
She is a dreamer.
She looses herself everytime in chasing dreams that are near to impossible and running away from horrors that do not even exist.
Yet he stands by her side, making her to stand up everytime she falls, making her wild dreams look achievable and her horrors nonsensical.
Life is promising because she knows how to be satisfied, how to be unafraid of obstacles, unaffected by happiness or sorrow and see the real world yet be a child at heart and an artist in mind.
Albeit, there is something else that scares her now- what if the man who taught her follow her dreams becomes her dream one day?? What if she looses him while chasing her dreams?
She knew she was in love again. A kind of love which carried the experience yet the madness of her first love. Yes, it can happen again-in the same, similar or a different way, nevertheless a better way. But was it in anyway better?
It broke her, made her weak. It was making her someone she wasn’t, a different person. But most importantly, it was one sided. They underestimate one sided love even when it carries weapons that can rip either of the two persons off into pieces that cannot be stitched together. One becomes scared of love, the other becomes scared to love. It forces both of them to act like there’s nothing more to it…. nothing at all. When the reality is, they are ashamed. Ashamed of confessing, committing, holding on to the friendship they had and talking about it, because they know, things are already messed up! None of them is the person himself or herself. We pretend. Ashamed of something so beautiful.
“Stop this Chhaya! This is insanity. Will you ever learn a lesson?!?! I did. You must” he said.
“Why should I? Loving someone isn’t a mistake. LOVE IS NOT A MISTAKE…the person is. But I was sure you are not.” she woke up telling to herself.