I understood I never actually loved you.

Not because you were there with me, 

Not because all the thrills were gained and there was no turning point. 

I realized you were not the ideal image in my head.

So, I stayed with you, without loving you. 

Yes, we can perform. 

We can act. 

And, there is no actor better acting than a woman. 

No one can have access to a woman’s heart, 

Nobody can read her.

It’s complex. 

I never loved you. 

I tried.

But, I failed miserably.

Because, you were not the ideal image in my head. 

You couldn’t match that. 

I am in love with an image.

That’s untouchable. 

Unreachable. 

Unfathomable. 

Unattainable. 

I am in love with a shadow.

A mirage. 

That’s nowhere to be found.

Unrecognizable. 

What I thought was casual is real love, 

And, what I thought real was a forgery, 

An illusion.

What I thought was mere distraction was actually a journey.

Love is a complex theorem.

A long lived silence. 

A mystery.

A disruption. 

Never to be understood,

Only to be followed.

Never to be consumed,

Only to remain present.

Love is an art of war.

The war of hearts competing with each other.

©® Farheen Akter Bhuian Nancy 

Timestamp: 11.20 am, Tagar