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