This Is Love

Holly Lay
Holly Lay

The worst kind of pain is when it lingers; it would stay until it becomes forged in your own skin. It belongs to you now and you own it; you have to own it. And I blame the universe, in fact, I hate it.

Because the timing isn’t always right. He’s already on a bus on his way 30 miles away from you and you didn’t even have the chance to hug him, to remember his scent, to feel his arms around you, one last time and this is love. Just because you realized too late, Maybe he’s already standing in front of the girl who was always there for him, head-over-heels and crying for him at 2 am because he realized, this is love. Because you realized too late that him asking you “how was your day?” and you telling him the tiniest useless details of how your day went and hearing him laugh and react at the right moment meant more to you. This is love.

Because the words you say isn’t always the truth. “I’m okay” is what you say when he asks you what’s wrong, when every part of you was begging and asking you to tell him that everything feels like complete and utter bullshit; and because he knows exactly what to say to make you feel better. This is love. Then the worst part is when you don’t say anything. No truth, no lie. Just nothing. Complete and utter silence when at the moment he left, you were desperately calling out his name. Until it turned into a faint whisper of “Please, come back” “Please don’t leave” and “Stay”. One word could’ve changed his mind, but you let it be forgotten because you thought, “It doesn’t matter”. When it does. A whole awful lot. This is love.

Maybe because the things you do isn’t always enough. You start by denying the fact that you just lost the person who could’ve changed the way you look at love. Then you realize that he has already changed you. You’re less afraid of telling people they matter to you now, all because you couldn’t tell him that; and you couldn’t afford to lose everyone else. Yet telling them isn’t always enough. This is love. Suddenly, the time comes when you try to forget him but you find yourself wide awake at 1 am filling your head with the thoughts of “what ifs” and “what should be”. You force yourself and you try so hard not to look at the signs the universe has given to you because you realized that these signs are everywhere; and you only choose to notice what you want to see. This is love.

But time will come when you get tired of wishing that he would choose you this time. But he would always find a reason not to. And you know what sucks the most? It’s when you realize that if you had the chance, you’d choose him again if you have to. Even if he didn’t choose you. This is love. TC mark

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