Let's try Love again

Ruminations on life, love, heartbreaks, and on being a foolish dreamer

The train ride home

Sometimes I secretly wish. I wish he would walk into this train right now, see me and quietly sit next to me. I then tilt my head to lay it on his shoulder. He raises his hand to gently guide my head to rest safely on his shoulders.

I close my eyes as I sink into his embrace.. my forehead resting on his collar and his scent ushering me into this calming,  reassuring sleep.


I never want this train ride to end. I never want any words exchanged between us. Only silences, and us. In each other’s presence. Just this once. Just us.


The three words

I know you want to hear those three words from me: “I forgive you”. I could say it today, except, I did not learn how to lie.

I learnt a lot from you. About friendship and love. About God and Humans. About heart and mind. I am glad I did not learn how to lie. I am glad I did not pick that up. I cannot hide, I cannot conceal. What you see with your eyes is what there is. The depth in my wrinkles, the half-smile on my lips, the questions in my eyes, the scar on my left arm. They tell true stories. Stories that reveal themselves. Because I did not learn how to lie. That part of me, is still mine. The rest, I am trying to reclaim from the wreckage you left behind.

woman painting by emilia wilk 9

Here’s the thing:

Here’s the thing:.

Have you ever?

before sunrise

Have you ever attended an event or a party to “make new friends”? You were your most extroverted and vibrant self, talked your best talk, walked your best walk. You’re confident, you’re meeting people, making friends, exchanging numbers. You dance, you drink, you dine that night, and all seems good. You’re content that you signed up for it, you went and made ten new friends.

Then you hop into the train to get back home and the stranger sitting next to you starts a conversation with you. And that conversation is the only thing that sticks with you for the rest of the day. That conversation is the only thing that warmed your heart that day, and in a long time. And those eyes and that voice is the only thing you want to hear the next day. That journey is the only journey you want to take tomorrow. You’re not as excited about the ten new friends you made the earlier day – who were demographically, culturally more like you. Unlike this stranger who is from another world.

Have you ever been in such a situation?

Is it your vulnerability? Is it the draw of the unknown, the mysterious? The New and Amazing? Or is it the attention you got from him that is making you feel this?

I wish I could write you a poem

When I sit on the golden sand at sunset,
and the hues to me seem colorless,
I wish I could write you a poem.

When these eyes seek the sight of yours,
yet it’s the only thing they cannot have,
I silently wish I could write you a poem.

When so much is to be said and told,
And words elude me when I need them the most,
I wish I could write you a poem.

When we don’t talk for ages,
But you hear all that is unsaid,
I wish I could write you a poem.

When your presence overwhelms my soul,
completes it, reveals it, shows things unseen,
I wish I could write you a poem.

I know this feeling reaches you even without me writing a poem,
And my words may not do justice to my love;
Even then, I still wish I could write you a poem. 

Daily Prompt: If You Leave



Leave, if you must.. But know this

What was once yours to keep, will be a distant memory

Regret creeps on you whether you love or hate,

As faint as a fog

Yet crisp as a blade.

Leave if you must, but remember

You shall seek yourself and me, forever.

Easier said than done?

You aren’t responsible for the harm that was done to you, but you are responsible for your recovery. In other words, your freedom lies not in protesting the unfairness of the violation or in getting the offender to care. Your freedom—perhaps your only freedom—is in deciding how to survive and transcend the injury.

Spring, Janis A. (2009-10-13). How Can I Forgive You? (p. 53). HarperCollins. Kindle Edition.

Isn’t it annoying? When your offender doesn’t even feel remorseful? On the contrary he or she blames you for their choices and their actions?

You would think that would make it easier for you to hate them and move on. But no, it is all the more difficult. You keep thinking why did I fall in love with this person and why do I still love him/her? Why does it hurt that he/she is no longer a part of me, and why is there a void?

You would think knowing their true nature would help you heal – but the wound starts bleeding again. And you wonder if you would ever heal from something like this.


Finding your passion is like marrying the man of your dreams, but it’s even better than that—your passion will never divorce you.


A very important lesson for me from this entire ordeal. Cultivate what is everlasting. And almost all everlasting things are intangible things relating to the Self. Not someone or something else.

True Love Comes From Within

Thought Catalog

There’s nothing more heartbreaking than rejection. I know that feeling. I know what it’s like to feel invisible, insignificant. Realize how irrelevant you are to someone else.

I know that feeling of putting your heart on the line; opening yourself up, exposed for the world to see, only to have it handed back to you on a silver platter by someone who was supposed to mean the world to you. I know the pain of hiding parts of yourself away; distancing yourself out of fear of trusting the wrong person again. To live with a newfound low self-esteem.

I know what it’s like to have your spirit broken, praying to a higher power to take the pain away and make everything better. I know what it’s like to find out you’ve been lied to, betrayed; blindsided by the only person you ever trusted because you were sure that nobody else…

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