#56 the art of love.

It's never actually the big things that take grip of you and shout in your face that you're in love. No. It's the little things, the insignificant things done out of boredom, with a sense of mischief, that will come back to you and startle you with a rather wild knock.
It's those random moments where I'm caught off guard thinking about you; those times when, in the middle of a conversation, you abruptly pause to tell me that you love my voice; or when I realise I'm smiling reminiscing something you said long ago; it's these little things that make me love you more everyday.
- shwethabhat /art of love/

#55 you.

I sit on the roof, watching
the vast expanse of a sky
glittered with stars, with
the breeze tickling my neck;
and for a while it's like
I'm lost in the moment,
with only one thing
on my mind even when
there seems to be none,
and it's you.
It's always you.
- shwethabhat /you/

#54 The strength in letting go.

Every time we went out into the woods, I would watch him lose sight of everything else and focus on the things that spoke to him. He would capture the most beautiful pictures, and he always had a reason behind each photograph he took.
When he told me I was ready, and asked me to take photographs of the things I found beautiful, I smiled. I picked up a fallen dandelion and took a picture. He laughed, and asked me what beauty I saw in a dead flower whose seeds were long blown away. Without looking up from the flower, I sighed. "How hard must it be for the flower to part with its seeds, and yet it does so every time. These dandelions taught me to let go of things when it's time, no matter how hard it seems. They taught me the solace you find after letting go; and that, to me, is beautiful."
- shwethabhat /let go/

#53 Survival.

He created a map of trails
with every one of his touches.
She left him poisoned with love,
and she was the only antidote.
They were like the sky and the sea;
every time they met, the world
watched, wild with excitement.
They were so right together,
it was almost too good to last.
But some stories do survive
against all odds, because love
seeks strength in hope;
and that they had in abundance.
- shwethabhat /Survival/

#52 Etched in my heart.

It's been quite a while since I stopped believing in love. But when it starts to feel like I am losing parts of me, I'm drawn towards the few memories that I have kept of you. I sift through the pages of my old diaries to find poems I had written about you. Those words that I had put together with a conviction, and the undying faith I had in love amuses me now. Because the kind of love I once sought after, is the very kind that scares me to my bones now. And I'm often left thinking I'm better off without you; because my love for you made me vulnerable. And neither of us wore vulnerability like a cape, we saw it as a hindrance. Over the years I have lost faith in the existence of the kind of love that I once believed we shared. Yet I catch myself off guard, thinking that if love existed, it would look like you.
- shwethabhat /Etched in my heart/

#51 It takes a while.

Don't chide yourself
for remembering him
quite too often as yet,
your heart needs its time
to unlearn how to love
him; to forget the way
he looked during sunsets,
or the way he locked eyes
with you and smiled.
But when you do get over
him, please don't let hatred
tarnish that heart of gold
that beats within you.
- shwethabhat /it takes a while/

Home.

Every time your eyes meet mine, I see the same question lurking behind its layers. 'Why me?' you have always wondered, but somehow you always manage to keep it within and look away. But I want you to know the truth. We don't choose whom we fall in love with, that's not how it works. You can't plan it, and you can't make the other person fall back in love with you. It just happens when it does. And to answer your question, my heart chooses you over everyone else because you feel new to me. After wandering through streets unknown, meeting you felt like magically being brought back home. And that is why, as we dance to the tune of our racing heartbeats tonight, I tell you again the one thing I keep telling you over and over, 'you feel like home'.

- shwethabhat • /home/