I wrote this last night when my internet was fluctuating:
Nostalgia
I have already forgotten your name
Your birthday
Your cellphone number
The names of your siblings
Your mother’s face
Even your face, your cat-like face
In the past our fingers laced awkwardly
Our lips met in youthful eagerness
Our embraces emancipated us
And we fantasized as
The moon lit the salty seas
Of our only restaurant date
Because she was jealous of the city lights
The bitterness of yesterday
No longer bites me
And I write this poem
With a happy heart
But you are with her
And I am with my pride
Perhaps this summarizes
The adorable romance we had
The last time my heart (I cringed at the use of it) truly oscillated was three years ago. Butterflies fluttered in my stomach and I could feel a weight on my chest. There was never a moment so uncertain and so terrifying. I still recall the pangs of its brokenness and helplessness of holding on. Nothing could match it in passion or downright insanity. When obsession and the intense desire for control sit at polar opposites, perhaps that is the first symptom of a love so corrupting.
Love and rationality should never tango. And lately, I have been cynical over the whole concept of love. It seems to be just chemical reactions that go wild over a person's pheromones. That makes sense for we are animals who claim to be more evolved, more rational and other "mores" that we pride ourselves. At the end however, one could simply scrutinize the idea of love the way it chooses to shove religion and the concept of a god.
Years ago, I told my dear friend that it would take me forever to love like that again. I realize how right I was. Because although I scrutinize over the whole concept of love, I still wish to tread the line between plummeting and soaring.
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