Virgin Rains

To my love of the days when I loved you for I no longer do, I think. To the memories that I hid behind the curtain of that fogged window, I see you and I there. Behind that curtain, through that misty window, I still see you. Out there drenched in the rain, lie the times I regret, I think. The times spent being ripped apart and put together again, Many a moon have passed between then and now. My love for you fades and yet grows for those days, I think. The nights and the moons are the same outside the window, We are not. I see you and I meeting, A small series of serendipity leading us there. That, the moment of unexplained desire Still makes my heart pound. My fingers seek yours, entwine them, Hold our amalgamated souls. The reminder of all the divinity I understood. Through the hazy window I see, I do not love you anymore. But without you I wouldn't have known, The spaces between the spaces unexplored. I wouldn't have known the heartaches, But...

There are these places that I frequent, these thoughts that I revisit, and these experiences that I recall and relive. These are parts of me, the places that I have internalised, the thoughts and experiences that made me. It is ironical that I have chosen to remember the trauma quite well, that my thoughts romanticise the pain, the places I go back to aren't attached to happy memories, not anymore. We exist to find happiness, that life itself is a great pursuit of contentment. We seek out bliss in the petrichor, in the rising and setting sun, in the sunflowers facing it, in the waning and waxing moon; that universal search joining all of humanity in invisible ties. And I have opted to break those ties, constantly preserving the trauma and seeking out some more and more.