Her and Him

"And in the end we all are just humans, drunk on the idea that love, only love can heal our brokenness." - F. Scott Fitzgerald

What lines! These days the word love equates with magic, it seems something as amazing, as wonderful as magic. And I like a small child have got this fascination for this new found magic.

When I read poets like Pablo Neruda and Christopher Poindexter, I always thought how is it to love someone entirely, purely, fully. With heart, mind, body and soul. The kind of love that consumes you wholly, which leaves no space for any other feeling, for any other being, which embraces you tightly but still doesn't suffocate.

 I always imagined myself loving a guy with that devotion. To love him more than love itself, to be with him with so much passion that the two identities unite as one, to communicate so well with him that there would be no need to use any words, to give him all I have, to leave this worthless existence if he says, to trust him blindly, to close my eyes and see his face, to look at the world with his eyes, to look at him and feel how beautiful the world is just because he is present, to dream only of him, to wish that I never reach my destination because I don't want the journey with him to end because the destination couldn't be as beautiful as the journey with him, to hold his hand and never leave it, to realize that the world starts glowing when he smiles, to live just for him, to breathe for him. For him. Just for him.

Modifying Christopher Poindexter's quote,

Not only did I love him,
But I could tell that universe loved him too,
More than others. He was different.

After all how could I not notice how the sunshine played with his hair.

I want to be his, and want him to be mine.

Would write again.