He dislikes the romantic genre of movies. Seems like he wears his heart on a sleeve, but he skillfully hides his broken heart behind a friendly smile. He is everyone’s friend, and mine too. This one is dedicated to one of the warmest persons I know..

I think, at some point of time, we all dream (or daydream) about the IDEAL thing. We can’t get everything in life, and we definitely never get the best of everything, but there is something about meeting the perfect partner that not only makes our days, and years, but our life. A well-paying job, a day spent hard at work, and even a fulfilling sleep do not fulfill the heart’s desire. Because desire is different from ambition. Desperation in ambition leads to results, but desperation in desire leads to anxiety and restlessness. We may spend the entire day proving our mettle at work, doing great in whatever task we’re assigned, and even bagging some accolades, but at the end of the day, when it’s time to dream on someone, we feel empty. No, we feel as if we’re being mocked at. That’s the moment when we face the reality, when we realise we have copious tears wanting to explode through our veins, but we choose to escape it all through our sleep. Heartbroken pieces choose deep slumber to bury their pain, metaphorically and literally. Anyway, even dreaming on that someone is escaping, because for all we (do not) know, it’s a a waste of time. Law of attraction is not unidirectional after all. But sometimes, we cut ourselves some slack and just go with the flow. That flow is about undeterred imagination, about joining those broken pieces. It is about taking ten steps back in order to mend and heal. But when we return back to the reality, it is like having fallen off the mountain top after an arduous trek. It is like feeling pent-up anger towards a cheater, it makes life tougher. But when we feel compassion and pity towards a betrayer, it does not make us feel any better, does it? That’s what imagination does to us. Because in our imaginations, everything is almost utopian. There, we save our horrible partners from their own hellish lives, and save ourselves from nice people (vulnerability cannot handle nicety, it seems). We are cruelly closed off with the world but we melt in our partner’s arms in Lalaland. Having said that, the latter’s rare, because they run away from us even in Lalaland. (They aren’t ‘our’ ‘partners’ anymore, you see). Their cosmic vibrations are probably (certainly) attuned to someone else’s. That’s what brings us to the reality.

And in reality, we want to stay away from people who treat us right, because that makes us feel positive about the world. It almost makes us cry because it seems fresh everytime, in the backdrop of scathing words that still sting. Being around people helps when we meet people who love to talk about things in the world, and life in general. It opens our eyes to other windows, and we feel motivated, for a while. Just a while. But some of us would always choose to be inside a cocoon instead of being surrounded by more than one person. Solitude becomes our favourite company..it helps us create. It helps us write acrostics that would never reach our object of (affection?). But then, that’s what a heartbroken piece is supposed to do, because it does not have anything else to do. I mean, it’s better than getting rejected, like ten times. And a heartbroken piece can never be sure of a feeling, because it’s broken. So, it’s better to keep the jigsaw puzzle inside because it could end up creating a lot of confusion. I rarely watch movies. My head screens it all for me, and my heart edits for me. It’s not as smooth as a film reel. There’s a lot of imagery involved, of course, but in reality, sequels are rare. There’s only worse out there, out of the movie hall. Life’s real, once we’re out of Lalaland. No escaping it, not this time.

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