A little Blue Seashell.

It all started from a wrong decision made.

Time seemed to fly these past few months. We led our own lives, and made merry while we could.

I picked up a blue seashell from a corner of my mind,
I heard a familiar love song playing along these lines
“I was yours, and you were mine,”
But who remembers this with the passing of time?

Our paths crossed again one fine day because of a book and of course, memories.

No pacts were made to be fair to one and all. However, you stated your stand and I stated mine. Your objectives and priorities are clear and so are mine. Everything seemed too magical at that moment because of the exciting anticipation which both of us see in the future. That was true for me, at least.

Time is an interesting concept. It lets us anticipate but amidst the anticipation comes unexpected twists to the story. The once-thought excitement that time had promised was not delivered; it only delivered increasing apprehension as frequent meet-ups numbed the magic that we should have all these while.

Sometimes men are just like a little blue seashell,
A simple look it has, but what is hidden you cannot tell.
The strength is faked and the courage is compelled,
What is real is the tenderness burning in hell.

I am about to be thrown into a state of impending disequilibrium.

The magic fades slowly as likened to feelings. Everytime I look into your eyes, reminisences of the past resurfaced, just to tell me that we can only be friends for now and forever. Those lovely eyes only serve as a warning to my fragile mind; to stay the way it is now so that my heart of glass can heal. But yes, the magical glow in your eyes is still there. A double-edged sword telling me it is a lose-lose situation.

My mind battles the body. What the mind says, the body cannot follow. Somehow, the fading magic remains on every part of me. I am trying so very hard, very hard.

Half a cup of memories is enough to make me drunk,
Makes me dial on the number which always got hung.
How are you now? Has the magic been debunked?
It seems that the meaning of love has since turned numb.

And I am still trying very hard now. To salvage, or not to?

I lost the stamina, courage and confidence to continue in this marathon. The endpoint seems so unachievable. Put in my all, complete the race, or put in my all just to risk collapsing before the endpoint?

I am exhausted through and through.

A tinge of remorse is enough to make me feel the pain for real,
The “me” in the past is still as stubborn as a mule.
Do you miss me? Is the allocated time already due?
Let time abrade the remains of our unsaid words,
into remnants of unspent zeal.