This is when…

When love is not enough. When knowing the imminent end does not scare away the hopeful hearted. When against all reason and better judgement, the burden is carried further with a companion who has outstayed the welcome. This is when the mind controls and unflinchingly witnesses the soul’s inner battle, the heart’s aching desire. When it is cruel to be alive and softly murderous to be resisting. This is when with mustered faith we must let go and fall into the unknown with will and compassion, hope for something better to come.

For the heart here cannot alter the parting facts. I regrettably know the weakness that lies in believing the mesmerizing ways of the heart in love. The tricks it pulls up its sleeves, the illusion it creates. In truth, the heart has the least to contribute. Its deception may only surface with the passing of years, decades, a lifetime. But before the end, its true colours will become apparent. The disappointment will reign on the deceived; and confused looks will throw even those that specialise in knowing the heart’s desire. This is when love is not enough. This is when the heart can no longer be enough to know. To show.

No matter how clearly I foresee each and every way the future will turn out, I allow the heart to trick me. I know that I will stand in front of you and think myself in love. I know that I will leave to never see you again, place my broken heart in your hand. I know that you will hurt. You will want to punish your heart. You will search high and low to know the end. But our hearts will not be the keepers of our love. They have never been. They have tied us together, but have never been the reason we have loved this long. The heart is a lifeless being without the soul. When we allowed our souls to fuse is when we secured our hearts’ right for each other. Made a pendant broken in two. It is up to our hearts to forgive. It is up to our souls to make one of two.

This is when I dream. This is when you ache. This is when we both realise that love is not enough. This is when I curse the day my heart learnt to love. And you, you turn to another and find solace in the arms of someone who does not carry the burdens of a prolonged love. I walk down the path that leads me towards a treacherous end. I will always think you to be the one. At an uncertain point you will offer your all to me. I will accept. We will live in love until we realise that the bond we so praised had loosened and our souls were not tied tightly enough. We fall separately to the ground. Then our hearts will beat with the same vigour they do now. Then we will say in unison again, after decades of forgetfulness, that this is when love is not enough. Not enough to weather life.

I would break for you. You would give your life for me. Never will I survive seeing your face again. My love, you say, never can I be the man that I wish for you to have.