There are times when I do not understand why we fall in love with things that we can only see, but not touch—the sky, the sun, the rainbow, the moon, the stars. I sat on the swing, and watched the sunset stained clouds disappear into the morning orange tinged sky. When you came into my life, I let your love wash over me. I remember how it seemed more like a movie and less like a disaster when you kissed me under that orchid tree. You looked at me and told me that you will never forget the love we had, even when we were over. And I looked at you, and asked myself why you couldn't think about a happy ending. When you left without saying anything, I understood why. You began everything with a hopelessness, as if there was nothing that could save you. I looked at your photographs and climbed up to the tunnel of our memories and sat there, remembering the days when everything was so beautiful that it almost made me forget that it wasn't real. I am so hopelessly in love with a memory, a souvenir from a different world, a different time. My friends told me that I shouldn't love you like that, they told me that it's dangerous. They asked me how I felt, and I told them that there were a lot of things that burn my mouth— hot tea, steamed dumplings, saying 'goodbye' to someone who'll never return, and your name, your love, and you. And no matter how much it hurt, I chose to endure the pain inside of me instead of telling the world the tales of the agony of our love . (continued in next post) . —Rae Pathak, see and touch. #thestorytellers#thestorytellers95#wordsmith#wordporn#wordgasm#writersnetwork#writeups#writersofig#writersofinstagram#writerscommunity#writerscoloumn#writogram#writings#instawrite#writers#writersblock#cinematic#love#poetsofinstagram#poetsofig#poetry#poetrycommunity Image by @perolls
And then, yesterday I met you. You looked at me with pity, as if I was a broken fragile thing. And I looked at you with all this heaviness that I carry on the back of my shoulder, the heaviness of loving you so much that it almost breaks me down. I wanted to say something, but my mouth was parched, my throat closed. But you came to me and said, . "Forget about love. Forget about us." . and I wanted to ask, . "What about the orchid tree? What about remembering?", . but you were already gone, as if none of this mattered. And I, I sat on the swing with your photograph in my hand and climbed the tunnel of our memories again, and looked at the sky. Maybe, we only love the things that we cannot have. Maybe, that is the only way to give hope to our hopelessness. And it's late now, and I am watching the orange tinged sky disappear into sunset tainted clouds, and I am beginning to understand why we fall in love with things that we can only see, but not touch—the sky, the sun, the rainbow, the moon, the stars, our dreams, our memories, our feelings, and you. And you, my love, I wish you could love me too . —Rae Pathak, see and touch. Part 2. #thestorytellers#thestorytellers95#wordsmith#wordporn#wordgasm#writersnetwork#writeups#writersofig#writersofinstagram#writerscommunity#writerscoloumn#writogram#writings#instawrite#writers#writersblock#cinematic#love#poetsofinstagram#poetsofig#poetry#poetrycommunity Image by @maleyphoto
I don’t mean this post in a DO MORE BE MORE way. I mean it in a: make your days more intentional to line up with what matters to you and the person YOU want to be. It’s up to you. You don’t have to do anything big or impressive, but I think we all owe it to ourselves to build the kind of life we yearn for. Last year, I thought about what I would be so proud to be in progress in January 2020. What could I start now that Jamie in January 2020 would be like, hell yes, you did that, thank you! How can I build a safer, happier, more thoughtful life for my future self? Those are the questions I asked in January 2019. They didn’t build resolutions. They built PLANS. And I got laser focused. January 2020 me didn’t want to know I spent hours and hours wasting time when I could have been working on a book. January 2020 me wouldn’t need my instant gratification and my bitter comparisons and my defeatist attitude. No, 2020 me would be happy if I tried, if I did my best, if I gave it a shot, if I stopped waiting to be perfect and instead showed up as me. That’s who I was excited to build. And now, I ask myself that question again: what will 2021 Jamie be excited about? What can I provide for her? How can I make her life easier and happier? How can I take care of her more? What can I build now that she can look at and go, “Damn, you did that? Okay, I’ll take it from here!” That’s how I think about the year ahead. Me and me. Build the life *I* want. ✊ Does this resonate, friends?
She was like a book, her scent incomparable, teaching you something new in every page, every paragraph, every sentence. She's a little different everyday. Nothing's dull or monotonous with her. You turn the page to something exciting and then turn the page to something even more exciting. Full of drama, adventures and plot-twists she is. But like any good book, you wouldn't like to read her twice. You'll read her once, but she and her story will always stay with you. She'll leave you warm in a way no one ever will, can. . C>