It was 3 am, not a particularly good time to be awake but, I guess, mental illnesses have their own perks.

She was sitting beside her window staring at the darkness or just the glistening road that was reflecting light after the rain.

It’s hard to explain what she was looking for when she was looking,  you know.

The next day, she woke up at 6 am,

Smudging her eyes, she made a cup of earl grey tea, she has been spacing out a lot.

I wonder why?

You see, we’ve been living together for a while now,

We eat. Sleep. Make love (maybe or just have plain sex)

It feels inexplicably empty around her. 

I love her, but then, why do I feel this?

Why do I feel we’re out of love as if it’s some quantity?

Sometimes, she laughs, I like it, I like the creases on her face, damn I really love her.

But I also feel I can never be like that around her, then the feeling I have for her are they really love?

No?

Then what are they?

I wonder if she ever felt loved by me, did she feel the exhilaration around me?

How did it turn this way?

How did I meet her?

No, this shit does not faze me, but my memory is hazy.

20^th December 2027

I’ll tell her today, that it’s over.

I don’t think she will mind moving out, just like she didn’t mind moving in.

“I guess, we’re out of love, mara”

“we were never in love, Kaami”

“what?”

“filling up emptiness isn’t love.” 

//thoughts at 5 am

maniac//

Everytime I saw her reflection on the mirror I saw her sad.

They say mirror shows you who you really are, 

Then I guess she was just sad or depressed or anxious or suffering from dementia or amnesiac or just plain sad.

She use to work for a huge company but then she stopped going

For days than weeks.

As if she didn't want to live rather exist. 

What was it midlife crisis?

I remember her saying the things she wanted to do you know.

About the painting the rooms and making it all pastel, getting some flowers.

Now all I can see is glass shattered on the floor and cigarettes on the ashtray, a bottle of bourbon laying around a orchid with no flowers and no life.

What does it mean to loose someone you love? 

Have you ever felt it?

I don't know what it feels like,

I have seen so many deaths.

But I guess everytime someone dies they take a piece of us with them so our being, our soul is torn apart.

Everytime.

Living in Cities is so lifeless, you live, you die no one cares. 

So, find someone you know why? Because you're weak. You pretend all that much you when you hit the bottom you need love. What ever it's defination be in your world. 

Every person is in his/her own world so if that is the case,

how many worlds will there be? 

A.M