Time and My Delusion

A special kind of silence follows

when I finally realize

that she doesn’t miss me back

the way I miss her every day.

When I go through all the emotions,

scroll, recall, and remember the past,

there is a silence where my heart

is finally tired of its own screams.

Between regret and denial,

a soft whisper within me says,

missing isn’t love anymore;

it has become a habit now.

I miss the version of me that believed

that hope, trust, and love were enough.

This heartbreak showed me

where my boundaries should have been,

as I poured endlessly into her.

Now, every time I check her social media,

reread messages, or even think,

“I wonder what she is doing,”

my brain releases dopamine,

the chemical of hope.

My mind is seeking its old supplier again,

replaying a comfort I no longer need.

Time destroyed my delusion,

and it wasn’t fate or karma that ended it;

it was imbalance.

I was giving, she was taking.

And imbalance never sustains love;

it sustains longing.

I forgot my humour, my fire,

my curiosity, all the things that made me who I was.

I finally understood

what not to give away

so easily next time.

By

Sanji-Pail Arvind