RAVI'S

What Love Is
(Remastered)

I used to not believe in love, it used to be confusing, an abstract noun that's not meant to be explained with the mind but felt. Your heart, though, has always been a little unreliable so you have shut it off for a while, numbing yourself to the point that you don't want to feel anything. Until you met her.

Now, if someone asks you what love is you ask them to buckle up as it's bound to be a mouthful. Love is taking a walk in the streets of Paris, constantly on the lookout for boulangeries that sell chocolate-filled croissants because you saw her buying it once and you want to see her face light up when you finally give it to her. It is smoking your favourite cigarette with her on the sidewalk, gripping the stick with your left-hand because you're terrified she'd ask you to hold her hand and you wouldn't want to stain her skin with the dirt from the cigarette's ashes.

It's somehow always knowing where she is, no matter how crowded the place is because you orbit around her and her gravity is so much stronger than yours that when you hold her in your arms for the first time it feels right, like you were meant to be in her orbit for quite some time. It's meeting her by chance and knowing that she'll change how you see yourself and the world, thinking if she feels the same way.

It's kissing them, feeling so much warmth fill up your body that you can't believe you're the one named after the fucking sun because she feels so so so warm.

The Sun cannot touch the Stars as they're million of lightyears away from each other and he's always terrified to burn her if he ever gets the chance to touch her. But ever since the dawn of mankind, Auriga has always existed beside Gemini in the night sky.

And I love you. I've always loved you. If the Earth ceases to exist tomorrow and we're nothing but ashes in dirt, I'll always love you. As so far as Gemini still shines in the night sky, Auriga will always be an arm's reach away.

What Love Is

I wrote this a year ago, heartbroken and lost. After just letting go a woman that I think I loved. But for contrasting purposes, I think I'll put it here.

Love used to be whispers, giggles in the back of the class in between two classmates. Handwrittens letter that were never sent to the girl with the pigtails who almost always knew all the answers to the math exercises. Love used to be silent, a secret, something to keep within your heart that you'll possibly open up as a substitute to a warm chocolate drink on a rainy day. Love was warm, and gentle, and innocent. Love didn't have to loud, it just had to be felt.

Then love shifted, love turned into grand declarations, bouquets upon bouquets of flowers delivered on Valentine's Day, expensive gifts, planned dates. Love turned into a way of proving to others, rather than felt, love is used as an advantage. Love turned possessive and criel, and manipulative. Love turned to "You're never going to find someone like me," and a thousand and one apologies that were never truly sincere. Love turned deafening.

But like every other thing in the Universe, it shifted again. This time, love is small reassurances; "We'll get through this together," "Let's solve this together," and celebrations done in silence. But at the same time, the love that once was so deafening and cruel was still there, somewhere. And nights sometimes turn ugly, like a blackout during a thunderstorm--dark, scary. However, the silent part of love will always be there, a little more dominant than the hideous part of it you loathe—but sometimes it wins. And maybe above all else, love is commitment.

Something that I still have to figure out.