A love story

I saw him, I loved him.

We shared our beds and the hopes and dreams that transpired.

Then I left. I had to.

I thought of him ever so often, a heart ache that was all too familiar.

We spoke. But we were not the same.

Seemed like it had been a lifetime since our time together, and maybe it was another life. A happier life.

And now I’m back. But where is he?

He is with her. Is he happy?

It breaks my heart to realize what I wanted with him, he has with her.

What I introduced in his life, he is experiencing with her.

How cruel can heartbreak be? How oblivious can the heartbreaker be?

Now, every morning between being asleep and partially awake, during each of my reveries, I think of him. But more often I think of her.

Did she steal what was mine?

I hope to regain what I have lost, a part of me, some way and some day.

Or maybe this is the only love story I will ever write; it began when our eyes locked, ended when we blinked.

Published by

Mokita

Mokita is a journal of philosophical inquiries into otherwise elusive unspoken truths. The Journal publishes the writer's personal epiphanies, life hacks built on philosophy & curated wisdom. Follow The Journal Of Mokita on Twitter @journalofmokita Visit The Journal Of Mokita on thejournalofmokita.wordpress.com

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