Promise

We are what we are,
We're going to be what we'd like to be,
Together—with a capital T.
If not today, then maybe tomorrow;
If not tomorrow, then maybe the day after;
If not then, then maybe sometime later.
Wait...
What if our minds are already one?
What if our skins don't need introduction?
What if we've been together since ages?
Barely knowing the failure of the space in between...
Hmm? Sounds interesting.
Sooner or later, things will fall in place,
To guide us to a space far better than this.
Where peace is galore and worries, few.
And that's a promise made to me, not you.

The hole in us

When you put someone ahead of yourself, you tend to feel you're doing it out of love. And when you do that, you give away a piece of you. A part that completes you. If that person returns the affection, the emotional equilibrium is maintained. If not, you're bound to be dismayed. Because you cared to love. Because you dared to be naked. You were selfless and mad at the same time. Not exactly a wise thing to do but something you end up doing due to absolute abandon. You take a chance with yourself, let alone the other person. Your soul stretches itself while your mind takes a flight. It's almost magical. The closest one can get to being oneself with respect to another. People think it's the pursuit of happiness. It's not. Pursuit of togetherness, perhaps. Sorrow is an important ingredient, you see? Much like that piece of yours that goes missing when you're in love. Poets call it heart. If it weren't for aesthetic reasons, it could have very well been liver or pancreas too. Anyway, you miss it before you get it back. Hopefully.