When I had no words to adorn my love I prefixed ‘lost’ with it. Love was my self made belief, solace and was my realm of comfortness; inspired by her. A happy heart was me inside my fool’s paradise. But when you understand no illusion is a perpetual joy, you get into the groove of ground reality. Your mental state will confine to the life now, you start to think like a man.
Love always soothes you to the near perfect human being, although perfection is much more of pretence. Even if the love leaves you unblessed, it nourishes and revives you with its perennial charm. It makes your heart, the purest part of you. It makes you a new self-effacing creep that you weren’t never before. You become a gentleman within no time. You now forget to think like a man!
When you’re in love you follow no other language than your heart’s vibes nor do you listen to any better music than the melody of your heart’s pound. You get melted in the ‘cape of good hope’ (not found on any maps) stranded, searching the shape of your soul in the cutest white pearls. The magic spell of love trounces you to the abyss of your dreams to make you struggle, work hard to win what your heart desired for.
For me, love was a little too precious than the shine of the hardest substance hallmarked to be remained forever. It gave me an impetus to run without being drowned to fatigue. It was my luck ordained by her to cherish what really wasn’t real. It was a kind of love where I tried to negotiate its warmth with my destiny; but failed. It made me recognize that not all losses make you cry, but quite a few impels you to care for your simplest dream; to continue to live.
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