I met Love

If I want one thing to be remembered about me, let them say “he met love”. I did not find love, I did not know love, and of course, I did not understand love. I just “met” love, in the most unexpected phase of my life. I should be grateful, right? You once told me that some people live and die without knowing or experiencing such profound feelings. I remember how pragmatic you were at that moment, stating such an analysis while I was gasping for a breath of hope. I can’t deny, some people don’t taste this torture in their lifetime, some people live without dying of longing every day, some people continue living in a balanced way.

Why do I sound angry? You saw the whole story from a different perspective, and I can’t force you to consider a different scenario. No matter how much do I beg, but who begs for love? With all these thoughts whirling in my mind I’m questioning the meaning of love, what does it really mean to love someone? What do I want? I want you to be happy, simply I want you to be happy, even if we won’t be together anymore. There were moments where we were connected, brief moments, few moments, but they existed, there was no you and no me, we were together. I remember the whispers, the caresses and the relaxed breathes. I remember the peace and happiness engulfing us and I want more of these moments.

Am I escaping the brutality of our world by living the beauty of our love? Am I fabricating a surreal realm? I can see you smiling now, you have always accused me of being irrational. But how can a lover be rational? Again, what is love? Is it all these incomprehensible contradicting feelings, which include a bit of possessiveness? What do I really need or want if I already love you? Your love, really? But its not a transaction and it should never be. I love you and that is what happened to me, you should not be concerned. I wont even disturb you by repeating “I love you” again and again. I am sorry, I am mean, but apparently sometimes your love feels like a burden that I cant bear. I am sorry, this was something you should not hear.

“Do you remember when I told you….” No, no,  I should stop bothering you, “C’est finie” as they say. But still there is a faint hope whispering in my heart, telling me that I can earn your love, may be next year, may be after 10 years…. May be after you wade through one or two love stories, less glamorous ones than ours, I mean less glamorous than mine. May be then you will look around, maybe you will search for me, and I assure you that I will be there, waiting for you.