He knew from the start
This wasn’t his to keep:
Not her smile,
Not her time,
Not even her shadow.
She would walk her path,
And he would walk his.
Never together,
Never 'us' .
And yet he loved.
He cherished.
He carried her memories like a secret treasure—
Even the ones that hurt.
Because love is not about possession;
It is about presence.
The presence was never easy,
And the love was never exposed.
Love is about seeing someone’s light
And letting it warm you.
Even the smallest things of her
Never failed to warm him.
The purest love doesn’t always end in forever.
Sometimes it ends in silence—
But not before the truth is finally spoken:
A fragile, sacred vow that cannot be broken.
He laid his naked heart upon the line
And watched her take the space she had to find.
The ending was the same—
A quiet knowing in his soul,
But the sharing made his fractured spirit whole.
He let her go—
And in the letting, loved her more.
Sikaran
On the way back, in the air,
When he read a random story.
31·10·25
No comments:
Post a Comment